


Made All the Difference

by misscam



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2017-12-06 03:15:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 116
Words: 218,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misscam/pseuds/misscam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Certain things never change, Mr Gold knows. But everything else might still.</i>  Regina doesn't cast the curse, Rumpelstiltskin does. It may make all the difference. [Charming family, Snow/Charming, some Belle/Rumpel, some Emma/Graham, Regina, Henry, others]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU premise, changing who cast the curse as well as the Storybrooke it then created. It's centered around the Charmings with Regina and Rumpel also featuring a lot. Other characters will appear as they interact with these main characters. The main pairing will be Snow/Charming, and it will also have some Belle/Rumpelstiltskin, some Emma/Graham and possibly some others as it goes along. It will also feature a redemption story for Regina. As with the show, there will be flashbacks to FTL.  
> Rating upped to M for various reasons.   
> Thanks to Angie for beta work :)

Made All the Difference  
by misscam

Disclaimer: Not my characters, just my words. 

II

 _Somewhere ages and ages hence:_  
 _Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,_  
 _I took the one less traveled by,_  
 _And that has made all the difference._  
\- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost

II

**Prologue**

II

A wind moves down the main street, whipping up the leaves and leaving them to fall back down again, exactly as it did the day before and will again the day after. This is Storybrooke. Life is much like the wind, repeating itself with only tiny variations. Nothing much changes. 

Until tonight. 

The wind whips at Mr. Gold as he walks through the street, carrying a soft bundle in his arms. Most of the inhabitants of the town avoid him, as it is said dealing with him is making a deal with the darkness, though no one quite remembers who said it or why. 

It is hard to remember much in this town at all, as if the days passing are mist and impossible to make solid in their memories. And thus life passes, day by day, while time does not.

Mr. Gold finally reaches his destination, pausing by an old truck and looking up at the house by it. There is a birdhouse in the garden, making him form something that might pass for a smile. Certain things do not change, Mr. Gold knows. Oh, how he knows.

This is the house of Mary Margaret and David Nolan. They've been married forever, or that's how it seems to everyone. She's a school teacher, he runs the Storybrooke stables. She's a little meek but loving and caring, he is kind and unassuming and offers apologetic smiles far too often. On Sundays they walk hand in hand down the main street, pausing at the corners to kiss.

Mary Margaret and David Nolan have a good little life, most agree, perhaps even better than most in this little town. But even so, they all know something is missing for them. A child. All these years and missing a child. It is strange to miss something they can't remember having, but it is a strangeness that seems to cling to this town. 

Most people in Storybrooke miss something. Even principal Regina Mills in her great mansion has something a little lost in her eyes, widowed as she is and visiting her father in the nursing home every week as if that is her only comfort. Mr Gold too, Mayor Gold, collects maps as if he would rather be out searching the world than be here, and never visits a certain bar where a young woman works. (Perhaps just as well, some remark, because it is said she has no heart from how easily she breaks others'.) This is not a town of happy endings. 

At least for now.

Mr Gold looks down at the bundle in his arms. This will be the start, he knows. The first tiny change in this town that doesn't change, and one day a much larger change will follow. Until then... 

He walks up the stairs to the Nolan apartment, lifting a hand to knock and waiting while he hears hesitant steps come closer. It is David who opens, eyes widening a little in surprise when he sees who it is.

“Mr Gold. What can I do for you?”

“Mr Nolan. It is more what I can do for you and Mary Margaret.”

The sound of his wife's name always makes David's expression soften, and this time is no exception, even if the slightly confused look also stays. David Nolan is often a little confused, something Mr Gold almost envies. Sometimes it would be easier not to see so clearly.

“Here,” he offers, pushing the bundle at David who takes it automatically, looking down at it. “The adoption is finalized. This is your child now.”

“But...” David starts, sounding about as confused as he should be, since he and Mary Margaret hasn't started any adoption proceedings and Mr Gold hasn't told them he's done it for them. No matter. They won't remember that. They'll just know they've adopted a child. 

“This will be your child,” Mr Gold says firmly, voice filled with power. “You and Mary Margaret adopted him. Closed adoption.”

“Our child,” David repeats a little hesitantly, his brow furrowing. He looks down at child wrapped in warm blankets, who is just now opening his eyes to look up.

Love at first sight takes many forms, Mr Gold knows, just as love itself does. Here it is again and again it will be of use to him.

“David, who is it?” Mary Margaret's soft voice calls, coming closer until she steps up behind David, touching his back as she does. “Mr Gold, I... Oh.”

She leans down to look at the child with the same mesmerized expression as David, her breathing a little ragged. It seems such a natural thing, the two of them with a child, as if it has happened before. (But then, of course it has, and Mr Gold knows that better than anyone, since no one else really knows anymore.)

“Your child,” he says again, neither of them looking up at him, but still hearing it, he knows. Feeling it become true. “Closed adoption. You may name him.”

“Our child,” Mary Margaret says longingly. “Oh, David...”

Their hands link on the baby's blanket, their heads close together as they regard the life in their hands. Parents and child. Such a strong love, Mr Gold knows. Strong enough to do unspeakable things, as he has done. As he will do. 

“What do you think about Henry?” Mary Margaret asks hesitantly. “After Regina's father. I think she would like that since she can't... Henry. Let's call him Henry.”

“Henry,” David echoes. “Yes. Hello, Henry.”

Henry. So be it. 

Mr Gold leaves them there, David and Mary Margaret and the child they will raise and raise well, he knows. Family. More family to them than they'll realise for many years, but will eventually. 

The wind whips at him the moment he steps out into the street again, stirring the leaves in the Nolan garden and making them fall into new patterns. He watches for a moment, lifting his gaze to the birdhouse above. 

Certain things never change, Mr Gold knows. But everything else might still.


	2. Chapter One

II

**Chapter One**

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_They'll be coming, Regina knows. They'll have heard the rumors by now, the whole land full of them. The Dark One to cast a curse to end all happy endings. Even she has heard them, secluded as she is in this small cabin by her own choice._

_They are coming, she can hear their horses trot up the path. It will be Snow who has talked Charming into coming, Regina is certain. He doesn't trust her, and Snow doesn't really either but wants to so badly that she believes she does. Has ever since Regina asked for forgiveness and got a pardon, such an eagerly granted pardon by Snow and a little less eagerly by Charming._

_Still so young in so many ways, little Snow. Even if she is about to become a mother. Married and with child, such a happy little ending that is about to end abruptly._

_Regina sighs a little, just standing outside her little cabin as the horses come up the last bit and stop. Charming jumps off first, helping his pregnant wife down gently, letting his hand rest on her stomach for just a moment. It's the sort of loving gesture Regina would be sick to see just a year back. Now she just feels herself sigh._

_“Regina,” Snow greets her softly. “We've come...”_

_“To ask about the curse,” Regina finishes. “The Dark One will cast it and it will take us to a land with no happy endings.”_

_“Can't we stop it?” David asks. She laughs a little bitterly at his optimism, always present, always coming out. So like Daniel._

_“No,” she says after a moment, shaking her head. “We can't. Your child will.”_

_Snow and Charming exchange a look, having a silent conversation in a moment. She just crosses her arms and waits, feeling strangely devoid of happiness at having to give them news that will break their hearts._

_“What do you know, Regina?” Charming finally asks, more a question than an order but not by much._

_“Not everything,” she says after a moment. “There is a prophecy concerning your child. It will be the savior, the one to break the curse. Because of this he may come after it. You may have to find a way to protect it.”_

_“Her,” Snow cuts in softly._

_“What?”_

_“It's a her,” Snow says very softly, Charming looking up sharply in surprise. “We're having a daughter.”_

_A daughter, Regina thinks. A daughter to love. She wanted that once, Daniel's daughter, their daughter. Then she was given a step-daughter instead and found it very, very hard to love anything at all._

_Still does._

_“She then,” Regina says shortly, not wanting to dwell on it. “He will come for her. You will have to find a way to protect her from the Dark One himself.”_

_“We will,” Charming says confidently. “I will host a war council, see what the others think. Will you come, Regina?”_

_“They will not be happy to see me,” Regina says dryly. She can imagine what sort of questions Snow and Charming probably had to face after pardoning the Evil Queen herself and isn't all that keen on facing them personally._

_“They will accept it as necessary,” Snow says, sounding like a queen issuing a command. She may still be young, but she has also learned._

_“Perhaps,” Regina concedes. “But I think it is best I not.”_

_Charming accepts it with a nod, Snow with a soft sigh. He moves towards the horses, holding out a hand to Snow, but Snow is still looking towards Regina._

_“Emma.”_

_“What?” Regina asks._

_“Emma,” Snow repeats softly. “That's her name. In case you wanted to know.”_

_Regina doesn't say anything, merely watches Charming help Snow up on the horse again, then mount his own. He gives her one last look before riding off. It may even be slightly courteous._

_Emma, she thinks as the two ride off. Emma. Her step grandchild, as it were. Emma. She'll have to remember that name._

_“Who was that?” a voice calls from inside, and she hurries in to see her father out of bed, looking frail and tired._

_“No one, father,” she says gently. He smiles at her, and she smiles a little hesitantly back, letting him touch her cheek._

_“It is better like this,don't you think?” he says distantly. If he's thinking of the isolation or of her giving up her vengeance (if not her bitterness, not yet), she isn't sure. Perhaps it's both._

_“Yes, father,” she agrees easily, letting him hug her. “It's better like this.”_

_One day she may even believe it._

II

Present day

II

His parents are going to ground him for weeks over this, Henry Nolan knows. Actions always have consequences, they've taught him over and over again, so he knows that.

So stealing a credit card and going to Boston is going to have serious consequences and he will happily accept them. It will be worth it in the end, when everyone has their happy ending back.

Heroes always have to make a sacrifice for the greater good. This will be his. 

It isn't just to help everyone else, he has to admit to himself. He is also a little curious about her. His birth mother, his other mother. The savior in the book he is clutching. Emma. 

Snow White and Prince Charming's daughter. One of these days he'll figure out who in Storybrooke they are, he is sure. He would be further along if mom and dad weren't so strict about him doing his homework. 

Mom and dad. They've been so worried about him lately, even contacting Dr .Hopper and renewing their efforts to get him friends. They don't understand. They're cursed just like everyone else. It's just he who isn't, that's why he has to be the hero and get her.

Get Emma to save them all. 

He isn't sure exactly when he first noticed something was wrong. It was when he was much younger, because this lingering feeling of something not quite had been with him for years. He seemed to be the only one who changed. 

His first friend was Katherine. She smiled at him in first grade. She smiled at him when he was in second grade too, and she was still in first. And when he was in third and she was in first. And in fourth, and in fifth, the smile now turned to being in awe of an older kid while she was now younger than him. 

Mom and dad too, they don't really change. Sometimes when he crawls into bed with them still, they make room for him without breaking their embrace and he can watch their sleeping faces. 

They don't change. The apartment is full of pictures of him and them, and they look the same in all of them while he grows. It's wrong. The whole town is wrong. He just didn't understand how until he got the book. 

“Here you are, kid,” the taxi driver says, tearing Henry from his thoughts. He smiles, paying with dad's card and stepping out into the cold Boston air. This is it. This is his hero moment. This is facing a dragon.

This is finding Emma.


	3. Chapter Two

II

**Chapter Two**

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_Belle hasn't lost count of the days. She's marked them on her wall, lines upon lines upon lines. She watches them sometimes, seeing each of them as a sign of strength. She's survived another day, moved another line closer to her freedom._

_She has to believe that. Has to, or she would lose herself a little. She has to fight in her own way, marking each day like a victory._

_Regina hasn't been here in a long time. If she didn't know better she would think the Evil Queen had given up tormenting her._

_The door opens suddenly, and she sits up sharply, gasping when she notices who it is._

_Rumpelstiltskin. The chains spring off her instantly, as by magic, and she throws herself at him. His arms go around her too, slightly hesitantly, but she pays no heed._

_“You're here,” she breathes._

_“Regina was captured by Snow White and Prince Charming,” he says in an odd tone, nothing of his usual theatrics. “She asked their forgiveness and got it. She's even so sincere that she told me she had you captured. She will not cast the curse for me now.”_

_“The curse?” Belle asks, pulling back slightly. “What are you talking about?”_

_“How I will find my child,” he says distantly, closing his eyes a little when she hugs him again._

_“I'll help you,” she promises. “Any way I can.”_

_He smiles a little sadly at her. “You really did love me.”_

_“I still do,” she says firmly._

_“I love you too,” he says, and she beams at him, feeling his hand touch her cheek. “Belle. I must do this. For Bae. I'm so sorry.”_

_“Sorry for what?” she asks, watching his face as his hand falls and he flexes his fingers slightly._

_“I need your heart,” he says. “You're what I love the most.”_

_Funny, Belle thinks faintly, pain slamming into her as his hands go into her chest. He already had her heart, he didn't have to take it literally._

II

Present day

II

It is date night at the Rabbit Hole, and Belle watches the couples with a cynical gaze, trying to figure out who will give the largest tip. It's always the happiest ones, but happiness always seems in short supply here. Much like love.

Love is such an overrated silly thing, Belle is convinced. She knows they call her heartless behind her back for it. She prefers the term realistic. 

She sighs as she takes in today's selection, noting that none of them will make her closer to rich tonight. Dr. Whale never has any luck, not even with Ruby, Regina's dates never go well, and the couple in the back are heading for a divorce though never seem to actually get there.

One day, though. One day she'll have enough money to leave this dump and go somewhere she can actually feel something. One day. 

II

Nothing much ever happens in Storybrooke, and thus the sheriff's position is not the most demanding job Graham has ever had even if it the only one he really remembers, as if he's been doing it for decades already.

Today though, seems to be different. A missing kid and distraught parents, not something he enjoys at all. Mary Margaret and David's faces have expressions that literally pains him, such a mix of fear, anxiety and attempting to mask it from the other. 

“I can't believe he's missing,” Mary Margaret gets out, breathing heavily as David puts a hand on her shoulder for comfort. “He's not at school, not with any of his schoolmates, not at Granny's, not even at that play castle he likes so much.”

“Or the stables,” David adds. “I've looked everywhere all day. I'm sorry to call you here so late.”

“I'm sure your kid is fine,” Graham says, making sure to keep any alarm from his voice. He isn't sure, but the last thing the Nolans need is additional reason for concern. “When did you last see him?”

“Just now,” Mary Margaret says, looking beyond him. As he turns around, he can see Henry and a blonde woman standing at the door. She looks uncomfortable, even more so when David and Mary Margaret both rush to hug Henry.

“Hi,” the woman offers, stepping back a little from the family reunion. 

“Henry...” Mary Margaret almost whimpers, leaning against David for strength while hugging Henry to them both. 

“Sorry, mom,” Henry says back, closing his eyes for a moment. “Sorry, dad.”

“You had us so worried,” David murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of Henry's head. 

“Emma brought me back,” Henry says happily. “I got her to come back with me. Everything will be all right now.”

“Emma?” David asks, lifting his gaze as Mary Margaret does too. “I'm sorry, you're...”

“My birth mom,” Henry says and as everyone stares at Emma, the only gaze she seems to be able to meet is Graham's.

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_They can't sleep, haven't been able to since the Blue Fairy told them the wardrobe could only take one. They just lie together very still, Snow with a hand resting above his heart and one by his face, her thumb caressing his lips. He has a hand on her stomach and one caressing her ear, wanting every minute to last an eternity._

_He doesn't want her to leave him._

_“I don't want to do this,” Snow murmurs, and Charming lets himself just cling to her for a moment, drawing strength from her nearness. He doesn't want to do this either, but he knows they have to._

_“You'll be safe in the wardrobe,” he says finally, willing it to be true. “You'll save me as I saved you.”_

_She closes her eyes as he kisses her thumb, then leaning forward to kiss her lips very gently. She sighs at that, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss a little._

_“Charming,” she says, pressing her forehead against his. “Do you really believe that?”_

_“Yes,” he says, willing the word to sound like a guarantee. Gently, he lowers his head to her stomach, kissing it through the cloth of her dress. “I believe in her too. Emma.”_

_“Emma,” Snow agrees, closing her eyes as he presses another kiss to her stomach, and another. Emma. Their daughter._

_They'll love her the moment they see her, Snow just knows._


	4. Chapter Three

II

**Chapter Three**

II

Present day

II

Of course they always knew Henry had a mother, David thinks a little dimly. They never hid it from Henry either, telling him he was adopted as soon as they deemed him old enough to understand. But it is an entirely different thing to come face to face with that reality.

“Yeah, um....” Emma says, looking at the sheriff as if looking for support. “He just showed up on my doorstep and refused to leave unless I drove him home. Threatened me, in fact.”

“Henry!” Mary Margaret chides mildly.

“Sorry,” Henry says, in that tone David knows is not sorry at all. “She had to come. To break the curse.”

Mary Margaret gives him a look over Henry's head, and he nods slightly, stepping away from Henry as Mary Margaret leads the boy away. Graham makes his excuse and slips out too, leaving him and Emma. 

“I'm sorry,” he offers again to Emma, who is looking after Henry and Mary Margaret with a guarded expression that seems familiar but he can't quite place. “Henry is...”

He tries to find the words, but 'going through a difficult phase' sounds dismissive and the truth sounds a little crazy and he's not sure which impression he would rather give this stranger who is still such an important part of their lives, Henry's birth mother and thus the one to give them their son. 

“He told me this town is full of cursed fairy tale creatures and I am the savior,” Emma fills in, and he puts his hand to his forehead, rubbing lightly.

“Yes,” he admits. “Look, um... Do you want to stay here tonight? You must have had a long drive from...”

“Boston.”

“... Boston,” he echoes and she smiles, reminding him of something again. “If you have any questions about Henry's life or anything, Mary Margaret and I would be happy to answer.”

She draws a sharp breath and he can see a range of conflicting emotions across her face before she manages a smile. 

“It's probably best if I... Yeah, thanks, but I'll just leave,” she says, giving him an apologetic smile as she slips away. He looks after her and then just at the open door until he feels Mary Margaret's hand on his back. 

“Did she just leave?” Mary Margaret asks, looking confused. 

“Yeah,” he says, closing the door, feeling a sharp tug in his mind, but at what, he isn't sure. 

“Henry was so excited about her being here,” his wife says sadly. She looks a little anxious too, and he puts a hand to her cheek without even thinking. 

“Henry will be fine,” he tells her gently, and her eyes fill with tears that he intends to kiss away. “Everything will be fine. You just wait and see.”

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_Names have power, Regina knows. After all, her mother named her the fate she had in mind and it came true. Yes, names have power. The Evil Queen, Regina. It does matter which of them she allows to be her name._

_Emma. There is a name with power also. The savior. Snow trusted her with the name, not even knowing the power it would hold._

_But Regina does._

_Emma. A name with power. And so Regina writes it down, over and over again, watching the candle go from tall and new to a slip of wax nearly touching her table. And still she writes._

_Emma. Emma._

II 

Present day

II

Well outside the Nolans' house Emma takes a deep, calming breath. Then another. It's about all she can do to keep calm, first faced with her son walking into her life and then his current family. They do love him, she can already tell, and he them from how he talked of them in the car. They might not be rich from the state of their place, but there is a strange loving quality to everything here, even the birdhouse in fading colors. 

He did get what she wanted for him, what she gave him up for. His best chance. 

And yet it hurts and she isn't even sure why. 

“You probably shouldn't drive back to Boston this late,” a voice says, and she nearly jumps. It is the man in the sheriff uniform, holding up a hand apologetically as he steps out of the shadows. “Sorry.”

“This how you look after your town, by scaring visitors to death?” she says, and he smiles faintly.

“All within the law,” he counters. “I am serious, though. We've had many accidents by the town border. You can stay at Granny's inn tonight, maybe even stop by the Nolans before you leave in the morning.”

She considers it, then lets out a breath she didn't even know she was holding.

“Lead the way, sheriff,” she says, and he smiles again.

“Graham,” he offers. “I am an impeccable leader.”

With an impeccable backside too, Emma thinks, but chooses not to say. 

II

She should have learned by now not to date, Regina thinks faintly, walking down the main street as the wind whips at her. It is her father who keeps encouraging her, her father who doesn't know where he is half the time and still she listens to him. 

He is all she has left now. Well, almost. 

She turns her thoughts to the budget again, to the battle with Mayor Gold that she knows is coming. It is almost as if he enjoys sparring with her, but why she does not know. All she knows is that she's had a fierce urge to slam him into a blackboard more than one. 

There is a stranger in the street. It takes Regina a moment to register it, then she halts. Somehow, she knows this is wrong. This is not a tourist town. Strangers do not come here and yet here one is, talking to the sheriff as they both walk. 

“Graham,” she says as the two draw near, keeping her gaze on the stranger. It's a blonde woman, dressed casually in a red leather jacket and giving her a measured glance.

“Principal Mills,” Graham greets her. 

“No trouble, I hope?” she asks, wondering why she even cares. 

“None at all,” he assures her, all courtesy and no real warmth. “Emma here is just heading to the inn for the night.”

“I'm sorry, what did you say the name was?” she asks, her head suddenly filled with a maelstrom of thoughts and feelings that is drowning her. Did he say...? No. No. That name... 

“Emma,” the woman says, holding out a hand. “I'm Emma Swan.”

The maelstrom comes to a halt and all of it slams into her at once. Oh. Emma. _Emma._

“Welcome to Storybrooke, Emma Swan,” she manages, taking the hand of the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming and shaking it.

Names and their power, Regina Mills, the Evil Queen, thinks faintly. Names and their power. Especially those you choose for yourself. 

Now she has to find hers.


	5. Chapter Four

II

**Chapter Four**

II

Present day

II

The call, when it comes, is entirely expected. 

“You asked me to let you know when a guest checked in,” the voice on the other end says.

“Yes?” Gold says, keeping his voice entirely impassive. It is a skill centuries in the making, just as all his other voices are. One for every occasion.

“An Emma Swan checked in an hour ago.”

“Thank you,” Gold says and hangs up. He keeps his hand on the receiver though, staring into the depths of his memories. 28 years. 

Finally. 

It's time to begin. 

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_It's starting._

_Regina can see the dark magic of the curse whipping across the land as she is just barely able to out-ride it, keeping her horse from panicking only by having its heart in her hand, willing it on._

_She can't outride it forever, she knows. It will catch them all eventually. But she will reach the castle before it will, maybe even with time enough to do what must be done._

_The guards are scrambling as she rides up, most of them watching the darkness in her wake with wide eyes. They hardly seem to notice her, and she gets in unhindered._

_Quickly, she dismounts. The alarm is sounding across the courtyard, following her as she hurries inside. Hurries, hurries, hurries and bursts into the royal bedchamber only to find just Snow there._

_She is crying, sobbing into the bedsheets with all the grief of someone who has lost their beloved._

_“The child!” Regina calls. “Emma, where is Emma?”_

_Snow looks up with teary eyes. The pain on her face is quite pleasing to the part of Regina that is still filled with anger and hate, but another is reminded of a young girl wanting a mother more than anything._

_Her voice is choked with pain as she speaks. “I told Charming to take her to the wardrobe.”_

_Regina doesn't spare any time for false words of comfort, merely turns and runs down the corridor. As she reaches the nursery, she sees Charming there, kneeling down to put the child into the wardrobe._

_It is a shame it is Charming, she thinks briefly. Snow might trust her. Charming won't, not with this. But it is essential the baby does not go through the wardrobe yet, not without what Regina will give her._

_Protective, loving Charming, always so willing to protect Snow to the death. He'll do no less for his daughter, she knows._

_With his back turned, he doesn't see her coming._

II

Present day

II

Mary Margaret can't sleep.

That in itself is not uncommon. She often fails to get enough sleep, something David regularly chides her about and Regina remarks on in that slightly detached way Mary Margaret knows is a sort of caring. It is Henry sometimes, wondering if they're doing enough for him. Her pupils at other times, worrying her in a way she can't quite place. She's even lost sleep over David, drawing her finger across his scars. She remembers the car accident that almost took him from her (faintly, as if in a dream) and as always she wonders how it would even be possible to live without him.

But there is also something else that can keep her awake. Sometimes she thinks she might even fear sleep a little, though she has no idea why it would be so. Sleep only holds dreams, and they carry no danger. (At least they should carry no danger. Right?)

This time the lack of sleep is entirely about Emma. A lovely name, a name she wouldn't mind giving a daughter. Henry's mother. Henry's other mother, she mentally corrects herself. Even after they told him he was adopted, Henry still chose to call her and David mom and dad. 

She exhales, tucking her head a little closer under David's chin. She can feel his chest rise and fall, steadying her too, his arm around her and resting casually on her hip. He often holds her in his sleep as if he fears waking up without her. 

“You need to sleep,” he murmurs sleepily.

“I will,” she promises. “It's just... It's Henry.”

“I know,” he says, a touch of worry in his voice as well. “Mary Margaret, he loves you. You're his mother. He's not looking to replace you.”

“He went to find his birth mother,” she says.

“That wasn't about you.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I know you.” He smiles as she tilts her head up to look at him, and presses a kiss to her lips. She smiles into it, then pushes herself up. 

“I'm just going to get some air,” she tells him softly.

“Mmm,” he simply says, sleep already claiming him again. He's used to her little trips outside, with her watching the stars or the birds. Sometimes she wishes she had a balcony to walk out on, but for now she gets a long coat to put over her sleepwear and wanders outside. 

Perhaps David is right, she thinks. Perhaps Henry's trip to find Emma is not about her as a mom. Perhaps it is something else. He keeps talking about the curse, perhaps...

The gag that is suddenly pressed over her mouth causes her to choke, and she claws at the arm to have it removed. It does no good. Neither does the elbow she shoots backwards into someone's soft flesh. 

“Sleep,” the voice orders.

She doesn't want to, but she does. 

II

_FTL, the past_

II  
 _  
Snow doesn't think she has much of her heart left in one piece after sending her daughter to the wardrobe alone, but what she has left certainly shatters as she staggers into the nursery and finds Charming on the floor._

_“No!” she calls out in agony, half walking, half crawling over to him and to cradle his head in her lap. “Please, please, no...”_

_“He was protecting your child,” Regina's voice says, and Snow turns to see her step-mother sitting by the wardrobe, her face cold._

_“What did you do?” Snow asks in horror._

_“What was necessary,” Regina simply says. She closes her eyes for a moment, then opens them again. “We are going somewhere terrible, somewhere there will be no happy endings for any of us. Unless...”_

_“Unless what?”_

_Regina doesn't answer, or maybe Snow just can't hear it as the roar of dark magic draws closer, tearing into the room and moving to tear into them too._

_Charming's eyelids flutter, Snow registers, as Regina gives an almost sad smile._

_The curse hits._


	6. Chapter Five

II

**Chapter Five**

II

Present day

II

There are rude awakenings and there are _rude_ awakenings, Emma considers. This is definitely the latter. 

“You have to find her!” a young voice says, and her eyes fly open as Henry jumps down on her bed. Henry. Henry, the kid she last saw when giving him up and who is now the reason she is waking up in Storybrooke.

“Have to find who?” she asks, sitting up and trying to focus. “Hey, how did you get in here?”

“I stole the key,” Henry says, the tone of his voice clearly expressing 'duh'. “You have to find my mom!”

“Wait, what?” Emma says. The world is starting to feel like a very fast ride that she didn't really ask to be let on and doesn't know how to stop. 

“Mom!” Henry says again, his voice filled with a fear that makes Emma instinctively want to comfort him, but with no idea how. She settles for a hand on his shoulder. “She went missing last night. Dad's so worried, Graham is over there and I don't know what to do.”

“Kid, I'm not sure...” she starts, but he shakes his head and looks at her with wide eyes. 

“Please,” he says. 

A word with a lot of power, Emma thinks faintly, and gets out of bed. 

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_“Please,” she says. It's a word she's said a lot lately, repeating it over and over, hoping it will eventually make an impact. “Rumpelstiltskin, please don't do this.”_

_“Sorry, dearie,” he says, as he's said over and over, and she wonders if the word has lost all meaning to him._

_“Don't cast this curse,” she begs him. “This is not the way to find your child.”_

_“This is the only way to find him and also get what I want,” he says. She can barely see him through the flames now, the gold seeming to meld with it._

_Her heart will be next, she knows. That is the final ingredient to the curse, the one thing it needs to be complete. He told her that when he took it out of her._

_“Will it kill me?” she asks faintly. She half wonders why it didn't kill her when he took it out of he, but here she still is. Heartless. Alive._

_“No,” he says. She can see the faint red of her heart as he holds it up. Holds it up as gently as one might hold a baby._

_“Why won't it?”_

_He doesn't answer for a moment, holding the heart up. He draws a thumb across it, a caress she can feel through her whole body._

_“I left something else there,” he says simply, and throws the heart in. “I'm sorry, Belle.”_

_The curse rises to the sky like a column of black smoke, her heart about to cause desolation to so many._

_It may not have killed her, Belle thinks. But she wishes it had._

II

Present day

II

She can't be dead.

That's what David keeps telling himself over and over, like a mantra. She can't be dead. She's his wife, she's Henry's mother, she's _Mary Margaret_ whom he loved the minute he laid eyes on her even if it's slightly hazy to him now when that was. He just knows his love for her feels ingrained in him, as if a part of his very bones. 

She can't be dead, but she is missing and he can't think she would willingly leave either Henry or him. No. He doesn't think, he knows. That leaves frighteningly few possibilities and one of them terrifies him above all.

“She just wanted to get some fresh air,” he says again, running over the events of last night once more, wondering if there is something he's missed. “When she didn't come back I went to look for her. I tried calling her. I drove around the neighborhood looking for her. Then I called you.”

Graham nods, looking a bit distracted as he stares at his notes. “There is some dirt kicked up in your garden, could be signs of a struggle. “

David feels an urge to sit down, so he does. Somewhere inside him something seems to almost howl at him, willing him to do something. He just doesn't know what. 

“Dad!” Henry calls, bursting through the front door and coming straight at him. David barely has time to stand up before Henry's arms go around him. 

“I thought you were in your room upstairs,” he manages. He had thought it best that Henry not hear the details as he filed the report with Graham, but of course he should have realized Henry is not the kid to do nothing. 

“I climbed out the window,” Henry says, as if it's obvious. He looks up with a hopeful face. “Dad, she'll find mom. I know she will.”

“Who?” he manages, but somehow he knows the answer even before he looks towards the door. 

Sure enough, Emma Swan smiles apologetically at him. “Henry came to me. I don't want to intrude, but... I am good at finding people. If I can help...”

“Please,” he says softly, walking over as Henry still holds on to him. She looks at them both, her eyes softening a little.

“We'll find her,” she promises; oddly enough, he believes her. 

II

The knock on her door is rude and insistent and Belle shuffles out of bed to answer it, wondering who would wake up a bar maid after a long night at work.

Principal Mills, as it turns out. Figures.

“Good morning,” the woman says, and Belle just makes a face. “You won't earn a lot of money in tips like that, my dear.”

“I am not your dear,” Belle says testily. 

“Of course you're not,” Regina says, looking her over. “You're someone else's very dear, aren't you?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Belle says, wondering if she could manage to slam the door hard enough in Regina's face to break her nose. It would certainly be satisfying, but if she had to pay the medical expenses it would take all the longer to get out of his dump. 

“Not yet,” Regina says, pushing her way through and taking in the condition of the apartment. It is comfortable enough, Belle supposes. It just doesn't make her feel anything. 

“I didn't invite you in.”

“You weren't going to.”

Belle doesn't particularly want to concede that point, but Regina still seems to know she is right, smiling faintly.

“Tell me Belle, how's the heart feeling?”

“Why do you care?” Belle asks, wondering if the principal has been drinking this early in the morning. It might explain this visit. Nothing else seems to. She can't know about the chest pains, surely. 

“Because it's not really yours,” Regina says, looking straight at her. “It has to be a piece of his.”

Inside her chest, something contracts painfully, Belle finds. Then the heart keeps on beating, slowly and steadily but without any feeling at all.


	7. Chapter Six

II

**Chapter Six**

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_He knew the forest, the huntsman thinks. That's what he truly knew, what he still knows, what he can understand. He knows tracks, he knows wolves, he knows the predictable behavior of animals._

_Humans, those are harder. They confuse, they horrify and just every once in a while they are more graceful than he could imagine. They're unpredictable._

_This is too._

_“Your heart,” Regina says calmly again. She's holding it out as an offering, all regal and grand even if Snow White and her prince with a royal guard are standing behind her._

_“I don't understand,” he says. A look of impatience crosses her face, then she soothes it away again as if by will._

_“I took your heart,” she says slowly. “Now I am returning it. Do you understand or should I get a wolf in to translate for you?”_

_“Regina!” Snow White admonishes. Regina just gives her a look, then steps closer to him, his heart beating in her palm. The heart she ripped out when he refused to take Snow's, the heart he thought was lost._

_“Why?” he asks, just as Regina plunges her hand and his heart into his chest and the pain of it is, for one moment, overwhelming. As she pulls back, he feels it for the first time again. His heart. His heart in his chest, beating under its own power._

_Snow is beaming at him, and her prince as well with a hand linked with hers. It’s a strangely intimate gesture for a royal couple._

_“People can change,” Snow says happily, looking at Regina with such beaming, bright eyes. Regina just looks away._

_Unpredictable, the huntsman thinks again – but this time he also wonders if it's a good thing._

II

Present day

II

“You know this town,” Emma Swan tells him in a low voice as they both watch David Nolan talk to his son in a quiet, intent voice, both sitting by the kitchen table while Graham and Emma are standing further back. 

“I know this town,” Graham agrees. 

“Who would do this?”

“To the Nolans? I can hardly imagine anyone.”

“There is always someone,” Emma Swan says with steel in her voice and he looks sideways at her. “Who is capable of something like this?”

“I can't think of...”

“You are thinking of someone,” she says simply. A statement, not an accusation. “I can usually tell when someone's lying to me.”

“Here I thought my winning smile would assure you of my honesty,” he says lightly, getting rewarded with a slight change in her expression. “How did you acquire that skill?”

“Humans are predictable,” she says simply. 

News to him, he thinks, and gives her a long, thoughtful look. 

II

As Henry walks upstairs, Emma walks over to the vacant seat and sits down opposite David Nolan. He looks at her rather hopelessly, making her wonder if he's had to deal with any sort of crisis or problem at all before now.

“I am sorry about Henry's behavior,” David tells her sincerely, smiling a touch apologetically at her. 

“Don't be,” she says. He tilts his head a little, blue eyes regarding her. “It tells me he loves Mary Margaret a great deal.”

“Yeah,” he manages, visibly swallowing a little. “We both do.”

“Graham has to work within the law,” she goes on. “I don't.”

“I'll help,” he says, his voice gaining a bit of strength as he says it. “But why are you helping? Not that I don't appreciate it very much, but I thought you couldn't wait to get out of here.”

She looks upwards towards where Henry went without thinking. She's been asking herself the same question the entire morning and quite frankly, the answer terrifies her a little.

“My parents gave me up,” she says after a moment.

“Oh,” he says, not sure what the correct response is. 

“I only have two things from them,” she says thoughtfully. “I don't know if they ever wanted me. That's a terrible thing for a child. You wanted Henry, didn't you?”

“More than anything,” he says sincerely, and she nods very slowly, over and over, willing away the lump in her throat. 

“I wanted that for him,” she manages, dropping her gaze a little as David Nolan seems to regard her with so much sympathy it hurts. “I wanted him to have his best chance with people who would love him. How can he have that if he loses a mother?”

“Thank you,” he says, so much honesty in him that it makes her a little dizzy. 

“Now,” she says, pushing all the emotions aside, “the good sheriff gave me a few names. What do you know about Mr. Gold?”

The expression on David's face tells her more than enough to know who her first suspect is.

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_It's dark._

_That never troubles Rumpelstiltskin, of course. Dark is practically his stock and trade, his very being, his curse. No, dark he knows very well. He just sometimes forgets others wear it just as well._

_“Have you come for your curse?” Maleficent asks. He can barely make her out with no fires in the room._

_“What makes you think that?” he says merrily. “Perhaps I have come to enjoy your lack of hospitality.”_

_“I think not,” she says. “Regina gave me this curse in exchange for my sleeping curse, but I never thought it was something she was capable of creating. You on the other hand...”_

_“You insult me.”_

_“We both know you consider it flattery instead.”_

_He giggles, both because it would be expected and because she is, just as they all are, quite funny thinking that they know him._

_“It is mine, dearie,” he says. “I have come to reclaim it now that Regina has decided to be such a good little non-evil queen.”_

_“It will be yours,” she says, a fire coming to roar in the room as she steps forward. “For a price. As it always is with you.”_

_He could just take it, he knows, as she does. But that would be less fun._

_“What shall it be, riches beyond your wildest dreams? Vengeful wrath upon your enemies beyond their wildest dreams?”_

_“Security,” she says. “This curse will take everyone's happy endings. I want you to promise me I will not lose myself and that my little sleeping beauty will stay sleeping.”_

_“Even in your cursed state, you will be as you should be,” he offers glibly. “Deal?”_

_“Deal.”_

_He giggles; this time just because it is funny, all future things considered._

II

Present day

II

It's dark.

It is strange going from unconsciousness and to consciousness and still find it dark. 

Her hands are tied, her brain tells her urgently as Mary Margaret slowly comes to. Her hands and her feet are bound and she's gagged. She's in danger. She's...

Memories come flooding back to her and she chokes a little on the gag, remembering the sickly sweet smell that overwhelmed her. She's been taken somewhere, she realizes. Away from her family and the thought makes her kick her feet out a little in protest.

Henry. Henry and David. They will be worried sick and just the thought of being apart from them makes her sick. Her family. She has to get back to her family. 

'David. Please, please find me,' she thinks desperately. 

The darkness offers no response. 

II

Elsewhere, also in the darkness, the dragon stirs slightly, then goes back to sleep. It isn't time yet. 

II


	8. Chapter Seven

II

**Chapter Seven**

II

Present day

II

The Mayor's office is a study in neutrality. Neutral colors, neutral unassuming art on the walls, neutral IKEA-like furniture. Giving nothing away except this is the office of someone who doesn't want to give anything away.

That is of course rather telling too, Gold knows, and he sees Emma Swan noticing that the moment she walks in.

Charming, he thinks the moment he sees her. That confident determined walk, those set shoulders, the slightly raised chin. Oh yes. Emma Swan is her father's daughter.

He father comes in after her, in David Nolan's far more hesitant and careful approach, letting Emma take the lead. Still, there are moments when Gold thinks he can see the shepherd become prince in there still. The drops of the potion – the potion he made from their hairs, their love – he used in making and then casting the curse seem to have kept a little of Snow and Charming in David and Mary Margaret as well as keeping them together.

He used that, as he uses anything – they raised Henry until it was time, and now they will be what keeps Emma here long enough for what must happen.

“Mr. Nolan,” he greets David, but his attention is already on her instead. “Miss...?”

“Swan,” she says. “Emma Swan.”

“Welcome to Storybrooke, Miss Swan. How may I help you?”

Emma looks him squarely in the eyes as she puts her hands down on the desk and leans forward a little. “Mary Margaret Nolan is missing. But you knew that already.”

“The sheriff works for me, Miss Swan. Of course I know. I hope you're not insinuating I had something to do with it?”

“I am not insinuating anything. I am asking.”

Impulsive and headstrong, he judges. Much like her mother. 

“I have no desire to harm Mary Margaret,” he says. She looks at him, gauging the truth of the statement no doubt. It is true, all things considered. He has no desire to harm her or her family. Doesn't mean he won't if he has to.

For Bae, he reminds himself. Everything for Bae. 

“Perhaps you know who would,” she suggests. As he expected. All as he expected, and that is...

The ringing of the phone is sharp and shrill in the room, interrupting. Irritated, he reaches for it, careful to keep his face smooth and pleasant still as Emma and David regard him.

“She is leaving town, boss,” the voice on the other end says. “That woman you asked me to keep an eye on. Belle. She's heading out of Storybrooke.”

Not as expected, Gold thinks, offering his guests a smile as if the news he's getting is not potentially disastrous and unexpected.

“Miss Swan,” he says, holding the phone away from his ear a moment. “How would you like to have me owe you a favor?”

II

Her wrists hurt, and yet Mary Margaret keeps moving them against the ropes, pushing, pulling, working them every way she can think to loosen the ropes or the knot. 

She has to get out of here. Has to. She thinks of Henry and David and keeps on working the ropes even while she feels herself crying from the pain.

Finally something gives. She manages to pull the rope over her left wrist, then wriggle her hand slowly free. Quickly, she moves her hands to her feet, struggling with the knot. Her fingers feel raw from the pain and she can feel something that must be blood, but she does manage to loosen and then untie the rope. 

As she tears the gag off, she struggles to her feet. Carefully, she holds her hands out until she encounters something hard. A wall, a wooden wall that is cold and rough. As she moves along it, it scratches her palms a little. 

The door isn't locked, which is surprising. It gives way when she shoves her full weight against it. The next room is also darkened, but a few windows giver her the view of a darkening sky. 

A cabin and it's going to rain, but whoever took her may still come back, so there is only one choice.

Mary Margaret runs. 

II

Belle drives, trying not to think about anything at all, least of all what Regina told her.

Just drive and not think. That's the key. Just drive and get out of this town. 

Belle drives and doesn't think, doesn't even see what she hits as her car spins out of control. 

II

David watches Emma without trying to make it too apparent that's what he's doing as she drives. He isn't sure how she would take knowing how many traits of Henry's he sees in her – the courage, the determination, the willingness to break rules – but it fills him with a certain kind of confidence.

If Henry takes after her, he will grow up to be a fine young man. One willing to help.

She's agreed to help look for Mary Margaret and now she's even helping Mayor Gold find the barmaid at The Rabbit Hole. 

Strange, David reflects. He didn't realize the Mayor even cared about that bar given he's never even seen the man there.

“You really think Gold knows where Mary Margaret is?” he asks.

“I think little goes on in this town without him noticing,” she says, an answer and yet not. “I'll use this favor to have him help find your wife. Seems like everyone is afraid of him from how they talk so...”

She trails off as her eyes fix on something in front of them. As he follows her gaze, he gasps. A car has veered off the road violently just before the town limit. As they approach, Emma speeds up her little yellow bug and then brings it to such an abrupt halt he nearly hits the front of the car. 

Emma is out first, but he follows her quickly. A woman is the front of the car, and as they draw closer he can see that it's Belle. (He may not go to the bar too often, but he has taken Mary Margaret on one or two date nights.) She's slumped against the wheel, blood coming from a wound on her forehead. 

Emma gives him a look and steps to the side as if she could read what he wanted to say in his eyes. Usually it's only Mary Margaret that does that. 

Belle closes her eyes a little as David begins to pull her out of the wreckage, lifting her into his arms. “I just want to get out of this place. The things she said... I want to feel something other than... I just...”

“You just need to get to hospital,” Emma says firmly, already on the phone. Carefully, he eases Belle down on the ground. Apart from the head wound, he can't see any obvious injuries, but he knows she may have internal ones.

“I hit something,” Belle goes on. She looks completely dejected. He looks around, not seeing anything. Stepping onto the road, he takes another look and then, then he does see.

_Mary Margaret_. Oh no no no no no. 

He must make some sort of strangled cry, because Emma looks up as he almost dives to the other side of the road and down the little trench to where Mary Margaret is lying. Her eyes are closed, there is blood on her forehead, her hands have torn skin and blood clinging to the skin, her one leg is bent at a funny angle, but she does make a noise as he reaches out to touch her face.

“Mary Margaret,” he says, and his heart seems to skip as she does open her eyes and sees him.

“David,” she says softly, almost dreamily. “You found me.”

“I will always find you,” he says reassuringly, caressing her cheek as he tries to get his other arm underneath her without hurting her. She whimpers a little in pain as he lifts her up as carefully as he can manage. 

“I know,” she says distantly, reaching out to touch his face. He presses her as close as he dares and carries her up to the road where Emma is barking into a phone. “Charming?”

“What?” he says dumbfounded, but at the same time something in his brain seems to come sharply into focus. 

_Snow_ , he thinks; odd, as it's not even winter. 

“I'll always find you too,” she says and her eyes close again.

II


	9. Chapter Eight

II

**Chapter Eight**

II

Present day

II

This isn't how it was supposed to go, Henry is sure. His mom wasn't supposed to be in hospital after having been kidnapped and hit with a car, leaving them all worried. Emma was supposed to get here and it would bring back the happy endings, not bring them more unhappiness.

Emma. She is leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, looking like she would rather be anywhere else. Yet she's here. 

Mr. Gold is here too, though Henry isn't sure why. Dad just mumbled something about the woman driving the car that hit mom and Mr. Gold isn't giving anything away. Except sometimes Henry thinks he grips his cane a little too hard. 

It's a strange thought that Mr. Gold may care for someone, even love someone like Mom and Dad love each other. 

Dad is leaning forward with his elbows pressed into his thighs, his hands pushed together. Every now and then he looks up to touch Henry a little, ruffling his hair or squeezing his shoulder. 

When Henry leans in, dad slips an arm around him and tries to smile.

“You don't think there's anything wrong with mom, do you?”

“I don't know,” dad says in a slightly distracted voice. “She called me 'charming'.”

Henry goes absolutely still. Charming. Snow White's prince. Prince Charming. Charming and Snow White. His mom has always loved birds. Her hair is black, her skin is pale, and dad loves her.

The book. He has to look in the book. But if mom and dad are Snow and Charming, that means Emma is... That means he is...

Slowly, Henry begins to smile. Dad looks at him strangely, but Henry just leans forward to hug him. 

“You're mom's Prince Charming,” he whispers happily. “I knew she would bring happy endings back! I knew it.”

II

_FTL, the past_

II  
 _  
This wasn't how it was supposed to go._

_Technically, this probably is a happy ending, Rumpelstiltskin considers. Regina, the Evil Queen has expressed regret and started her path to redemption. Snow White and her prince will get married and have a child born of true love. And probably another and another, living happily ever after. Regina might even find happiness. She probably thought she was giving him his as well, telling him Belle was alive._

_Regina._

_She was supposed to cast the curse for him. His happy ending, to avoid what he now must do. Take Belle's heart, sacrifice part of his own to have her live and have them both live with less of a heart ever after._

_That or never see Bae again or have to give up all his power to find him. Ever after._

_Happy endings, the Dark One thinks bitterly. They're overrated._

II

Present day

II

The pain is sharp, then dull then seems to not quite belong to her, as if she's slightly removed from her own body. She can hear noises and voices, sometimes too mingled to make out, but slowly they become clearer too. 

There is one voice she knows so well her body responds to it even before her mind does, and she opens her eyes to see David looking down at her.

“Hey,” he says softly, his eyes warm.

“David,” she manages, her voice raspy and dry even to her. Quickly, he reaches for a glass of water on the table next to her, lifting her head up to let her drink more easily. As he puts the glass away, his other hands stays at her neck, caressing softly.

“What happened?” she asks. She can see from the lines on his face he's not had a good day.

“You're the one who had the adventure,” he says, an attempt at a joke that makes her laugh more from relief than anything. 

“Someone took me,” she says after a moment. “I don't know who. I woke in a cabin somewhere in the woods. I managed to free myself and I ran. I don't remember after that.”

“You got hit by a car,” he says mildly. “You have a bruised leg and a mild concussion, but Dr. Whale says you'll make a full recovery.”

“Oh,” she says, breathing as he lowers his head to press his forehead against hers. “Henry, is he...?”

“Henry's fine,” he assures her. “Mary Margaret...”

She can hear what he's not saying, what he can't put into words. His fear, his worry, his love, it's all evident in the tone of his voice and the look on his face. 

Very gently she leans forward to kiss him, capturing his lower lip between hers. He relaxes slightly at it, his hand moving to caress her ear as she deepens the kiss. His lips part readily, soft against her own. 

'So very Charming,' she thinks distantly, then feels a sharp pain through her head.

David breaks off the kiss immediately, pulling away to look at her. His face softens a little as she feels the pain fade; it must show on her face. 

“Just rest,” he whispers, pressing a lingering kiss against her forehead. “Graham will be in to take your statement later. I will bring Henry in to see you when you feel stronger.”

“Seeing Henry will make me stronger,” she counters. “Please, David. I need to see him.”

He looks at her, then nods. Another soft kiss to her lips and he's gone, leaving her to a jumble of confused memories and something she isn't even sure what is, memory fragments or merely stray thoughts that mean nothing.

II

She should have left already, Emma thinks. This is dangerous, but a danger to what, she isn't exactly sure.

It's this family. Henry most of all, of course, but David and Mary Margaret Nolan seem like nice, decent people and it makes her think they would even let her have a place in Henry's life. 

That is a strange, terrifying thought – most of all for how a part of her seems to find it not scary at all.

No. She should leave right now, leave Storybrooke, leave Boston, head for the road again and have everything back to normal.

“Emma?” Henry asks hesitantly, and she looks down to see he's walked up to her. “Thank you.”

“I didn't do anything,” she says a touch awkwardly.

“You were willing to,” Henry points out. “Do you think my mom will be safe now?”

“I don't know, Henry. They'll have to find who did this to her first.”

Henry seems to consider that. “Do you think you could help them with that?”

“I really shouldn't...”

“Please?”

It's that word again, Emma considers. In the distance she can see David approach, looking happy enough that she knows his wife must be recovering. Henry's mom. After all they've done for Henry, she feels a strange sense of debt.

“All right, kid,” Emma says. 

In the corner, Mr. Gold smiles; strange, since Emma isn't sure how that would make him happy.


	10. Chapter Nine

II

**Chapter Nine**

II

Belle drifts in and out of sleep as people fuss over her; not for her sake, she is pretty sure. No. She's just a barmaid, and has always felt like just a barmaid, like nothing.

She hears whispers about the Mayor's orders and knows who she has to thank for this. The Mayor who she's hardly ever interacted with and who is not the kind to look after a citizen just out of the goodness of his heart.

Mr. Gold. Regina kept talking about him, saying things that sounded too crazy to be true, but now... Now Belle really wonders.

Especially when he walks into her room, his gaze seeming to caress her as it lingers and lingers until finally, she falls asleep.

II

Graham walks into the waiting room to see that Emma, Henry and David are all engaged in conversation. David and Emma seem slightly awkward but friendly, and Henry seems happy enough for all of them.

David looks up as he approaches, putting a hand on Henry's shoulder.

"Mary Margaret would like to see you both," he informs father and son, and Emma gives them both a smile as they walk away.

"A happy ending," Graham remarks as they watch the door close behind David and Henry, but Emma shakes her head.

"Not until we've found who did this," she points out. Tenacious, Emma Swan. But then the information he dug up on her confirmed that, back when he wondered if she had anything to do with Mary Margaret's disappearance.

"We?"

"You," she corrects, then seems to think. "Me. I promised Henry I would find who did this. You have any leads?"

"I can't tell you," he says, and she makes an annoyed face. "But I can tell Deputy Swan."

"You offering me a job?"

"Yes. It comes with a badge, a shirt, donuts and the official permission to annoy people."

She considers that for a long time, and he lets her. He's learned a long time ago – he just doesn't remember quite when – that pushing people can just make them push back. Sometimes, you have to be the one to give.

"Okay," Emma says finally; he tries to keep his smile merely polite appreciation and is fairly certain he fails.

II

"Hey mom!" Henry says cheerily, and Mary Margaret offers her son what David can see is a very tired smile. He makes a note not to let this visit be overlong. His wife needs rest and he intends for her to have it.

"Henry," she says warmly, smiling as Henry walks up to her and she touches his face gently. Her eyes tear up a little, David notices, and she bites her lip. "I love you."

"I love you too, mom," Henry says. "You're going to come home soon, right?"

"Very soon," Mary Margaret promises, looking at David with a little steel in her gaze. She'll insist on coming home too soon, he just knows, and looks forward to losing that particular argument.

Huh. That didn't quite sound like them, that sounded like...

_Snow and Charming._

"David!" Mary Margaret calls out as he doubles over from the sharp pain to his head, like an arrow shooting through.

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_A daughter._

_Snow knew she would have one, of course. Ruth's pendant told her as much. But that was a future event, a promise. Now it is a given, a certainty she's about to make even more real by telling Charming._

_"What is it?" he asks again, looking at her with such bright, blue eyes. She wonders if he already knows, or if she'll just confirm his suspicions or if he really has no clue._

_Very gently she takes his hands and puts them on her stomach. He looks down, swallowing lightly._

_"You're going to be a father, Charming," she tells him. He swallows again, then looks up at her with such joy that she beams at him. Laughing, he picks her up, spinning her around and around._

_"Charming!" she protests, then just laughs too until he gently sets her down again._

_"We're going to be a family," he says in wonder, kissing one of her hands and then the other. "Snow, I..."_

_Words seem to fail him a little, but she can still tell what he would have said simply from the tone of his voice, the expression on his face, the way he leans forward and kisses her. Soft, open-mouthed kisses along her lips and then down her neck as she puts her arms around him and clings to him._

_They're going to be a family. Him, her and a daughter._

_He pulls back suddenly, looking worried. "You should be resting."_

_"David, I am pregnant, not a frail old woman," she tells him sternly._

_"Snow, you're **pregnant**. You will have to get used to me worrying."_

_"You will not treat me as if I am made of glass. I insist. No matter how much you worry."_

_A smile tugs at his lips. "I look forward to losing that argument."_

_She smiles as he leans forward and kisses her again; she wishes they could be this happy ever after and beyond._

II

"It was just a sudden headache," David protests, but Dr. Whale pays it no heed, shining the light into his eyes.

"It wasn't nothing," Mary Margaret says and Henry nods in agreement. Their son has crawled into the hospital bed alongside Mary Margaret and they're both regarding him with worry.

Truth be told, he isn't sure he is right and Mary Margaret isn't, but he doesn't want to worry her, not now.

"I think it is best you stay overnight for observation," Dr. Whale says. He holds up a hand when David wants to protest. "It is best not to take any chances. I will get the nurses to put another bed in here so you can stay with your wife. You're glued enough at the hip already."

"What about Henry?" David asks, but Henry just lights up.

"Emma can look after me tonight!"

"Henry..." Mary Margaret starts, but he turns to look at her.

"She helped look for you. Dad, tell her she helped look for you."

"She did," David confirms, Mary Margaret looking at him intently. He can see worry fight with her desire to give Henry what he so clearly wants, to get to know his birth mother. He can see the hurt lurking behind it too.

"If she agrees to it, Henry, then you may," she finally says, smiling bravely.

She always was the bravest person he knew, he thinks distantly, and feels a vague echo of the sharp pain again.

II

The knock on the door is insistent, so Regina gives up ignoring it and finally walks to the door. Somehow, she is not surprised to see Mr. Gold outside as she opens.

"Bit early to start soliciting campaign donations already, don't you think Mayor?" she asks bitingly.

"What is your name?" he counters.

She raises an eyebrow. "My name? Alzheimer's striking so soon?"

"What is your name?" Gold asks again, an edge to his voice she knows all too well. Well, well, well.

"The name my mother gave me or the one I was often called?" she counters calmly. "Which one do you prefer, _Rumpelstiltskin_?"


	11. Chapter Ten

II

**Chapter Ten**

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_Regina has been waiting for this visit as well. Snow and Charming came, after all, so he will be coming shortly thereafter._

_“Rumpelstiltskin,” she greets, not looking up as the flame on her candle flickers a little._

_“Regina,” he says from behind her. “Or are you giving up that name too, along with your hard-earned-by-murder reign and your little vengeance for the fairest of them all?”_

_Regina refuses to rise to the bait, biting back a sharp reply. “Regina is still fine. Titles are so... They're so temporary, don't you find, Dark One?”_

_He gives a little giggle as she finally turns to look at him. He is still golden in hue, still cursed, as she knew he must be, and she curls her lips into an unpleasant smile._

_“Couldn't the pretty little Belle help you? Kiss your troubles and title away?”_

_Something in his eyes flare at Belle's name, but otherwise he remains calm. “Snow White and her prince were here.”_

_“Yes,” she agrees. “I told them what you undoubtedly wanted them to know. That the curse is coming. That their child is the savior.”_

_“What I wanted them to know? What makes you think that?”_

_“What I know of you,” she says sharply. “You wouldn't have let me discover your plan unless the discovery was a part of it. And now that I have been useful to you, what is my fate? Death?”_

_“Oh no no no,” he says merrily. “You get to suffer with the rest of them. Cursed. Unhappy for you all the way, dearie. Sorry about that.”_

_He backs away with an exaggerated bow, and she keeps her angry glare on him until he's well outside. Only then does she relax a little and smile. Her smile grows as she clutches the almost complete potion in her hand._

_Not unhappy all the way, not at all._

II

Present day

II

The future is a puzzle, Rumpelstiltskin long since learned. Sometimes you see the pieces, sometimes you see part of the picture but have no idea what pieces came together to make it and sometimes you see all of it together and wonder how it could ever have been just pieces to begin with.

And sometimes, just sometimes, there is a piece you don't know what to do with, if it even fits in your picture or if it is simply misplaced and belongs to another puzzle. 

But you still can't throw it away, because it may be the last piece you need. 

Regina.

“You remember,” he says as Regina simply looks at him.

“Yes,” she admits freely, even smiling a little. “Is that what you wanted?”

He considers whether or not she is lying or if she genuinely believes he is responsible for making her remember. He thinks she is lying, but he has underestimated and overestimated Regina both, so he can't quite trust himself.

“Good to have you back,” he says instead, smiling all the while and thinking of the puzzle he is trying to make.

II

Emma Swan walks into her hospital room quite cautiously, Mary Margaret notices. There is something guarded in her walk, her expression, her very being. It reminds her of something, though she isn't sure what. 

“Henry said you wanted to see me,” Emma says, putting her hands in her back pockets in an attempt to seem casual. 

“Yes,” Mary Margaret manages. Her head hurts, but she is determined to do this. “Dr. Whale wants to keep David here for observation tonight as well. Thinks he may have hit his head or something. That leaves Henry. He asked if he could stay with you tonight.”

Emma's face is a display of conflicted emotions that peek through, like cracks in a facade. “You're all right with that?” 

“David tells me you helped look for me. Graham assures me he doesn't consider you a threat. Henry wants to. So yes.”

“You don't look okay with it,” Emma says after a moment. “Don't worry, I think that's a good thing.”

“You do?”

Emma nods slowly. “I'm not here to... You know, to be his mother or anything. You seem to have that covered. I just...”

Mary Margaret bites her lip a little, feeling a strange urge to comfort this woman, this stranger that doesn't quite feel like one. Perhaps it's the connection to Henry – must be the connection to Henry. 

“I'm going to be staying a while,” Emma finally says, seeming to settle on what to say. “I wanted to give him his best chance. I wanted to give him parents who would love him, who would look after him, who would want the best for him... Parents like you. Now I know that I can't have him lose that. So I'm here for a while. At least until we figure out who did this to you.”

Mary Margaret finds she is crying. Maybe it's the long day, maybe it's everything that has happened, maybe it's the absolute sincerity in Emma's voice. Maybe it's all of them combined.

“You're his mother too,” she manages, drawing a ragged breath and calming herself. Emma looks at her, biting her lip a little. “You want what is best for him. That's... That's what parents do. You'll look after him tonight.”

“I promise,” Emma says solemnly; Mary Margaret finds she believes it absolutely.

II

_FTL, the past_

II 

_“For our child,” Snow whispers. It's what Charming has been whispering to her over and over since they learned the wardrobe could only take one. That she must go and he stay. For their child._

_She doesn't want to go. She doesn't want to be separated from the love of her life or separate their daughter from a father that would love her so very much. No. There must be another way._

_For their child._

_So here she is, without Charming's knowledge, trying to find that other way._

_The fog clings to her as she steps off the boat. She remembers the last time she was here, to get the potion to forget Charming. He demanded a price then, a price she still isn't sure what entailed. What he'll demand now, she has no idea._

_“How unexpected,” a voice says near her, and she whips her head around to look Rumpelstiltskin in the face. He is standing close to her, watching her with his head slightly tilted. It reminds her of a bird of prey looking at potential prey. “And you do look quite expectant.”_

_She puts her hands on her stomach as if to protect the life in there without thinking and he merely smiles, a smile that is strangely pleasant._

_“What will it cost not to have you cast this curse?” she asks, her rehearsed line. His amusement immediately fades and she wonders just how put on all that is._

_“You trying to make a deal, Snow White?” he asks. She holds her chin up high._

_“You said everything has a price. What is the price this time?”_

_He considers that, lifting a hand as if to touch her belly, but she steps back. “Why are you doing this?”_

_“For my child,” she says._

_“Exactly,” he simply says, stepping back into the fog. No matter how many times she calls his name after that, he doesn't return._

II

Present day

II

Mary Margaret can't sleep and it isn't because her husband is curled up in bed with her rather than taking the bed Dr. Whale had the nurses bring in. No, comfort of his presence is making her feel better, so that isn't it. (Strictly speaking David shouldn't be in bed with her at all. But she isn't about to argue against and the nurses seem to have given up, so here he is.)

No. She can't sleep because her mind is abuzz with too much: with Henry and Emma, with a strange sense of something she thinks she is meant to remember, with memories of her kidnapping, with faint pain, even with worry for David. (The strange headache may be nothing, but she will always worry a little about him after that horrible car accident that left him in a brief coma.)

“You need to sleep,” David tells her gently. He's resting on his side with his forehead resting against the side of her head, trying to give her most of the bed space. He has a a hand underneath the blanket and resting on her hip with his other hand linked with one of hers, gentle touches given the bruises on her body.

“How do you feel about letting Emma spend time with Henry?” she asks him, turning her head slightly. He looks at her with eyes softening, a corner of his mouth turning up a little.

“How do you?”

“He wants it,” she says, thinking of the expression on his face. “I think for his sake, we should.”

“For Henry's sake,” he agrees, and she presses her forehead against his. 

For their child.


	12. Chapter Eleven

II

**Chapter Eleven**

II

Present day

II

It is never a pleasant task to report failure, but even more so to this boss, Smee finds. 

“You were meant to keep Mary Margaret Nolan imprisoned until further notice,” his boss says darkly, and Smee clutches his red hat a little nervously. 

“She.... You said she was meek and timid and no threat. I didn't expect her to free herself.”

“Clearly.”

“I'm sorry.”

“You would be, if I didn't already get what I wanted out of it.”

“What's that?”

“Why, Emma Swan staying in Storybrooke, of course.” 

“What's so important about her?”

_“Everything.”_

Truthfully, Smee isn't sure what is more frightening – the boss finding you not important enough to notice or too important to miss. Mr. Gold is like that. There is a lot of fear from uncertainty and he's a master of exploiting that. 

But actually, Smee does know what the most frightening option is. That is that the boss finds out he's not working for him at all and that letting Mary Margaret go was entirely on purpose. Smee doesn't need to know what Mr. Gold would do reacting to that; all the options are equally bad. 

II

Even with the permission of the Nolans, Emma still feels like an intruder as she steps into their home with Henry as the eager guide. He chats on and on about everyday things as she gets a better look at what is clearly a home. So many mementos everywhere, pictures and things and toys. Even the slightly run-down state of it adds to the homeliness. It may not be royal living, but it still seems something to envy.

“All right, kid,” she says as he takes a breath. “Get what you need for the night and tomorrow and we'll head for Granny's.”

“Okay!” he says happily, skipping up the stairs. She can understand being happy his mom is safe, but realizing part of his happiness is from her being here makes her strangely uncomfortable and happy at the same time. 

To feel wanted is a powerful thing indeed. Henry clearly is.

She walks over to a framed picture a bit absentmindedly. It is Henry as a toddler, placed in Mary Margaret's lap while she is in David's, the whole family laughing at the camera. Strange though, David and Mary Margaret don't seem any younger than they do to her now.

“I started noticing that,” Henry says behind her, and she turns around to see him look seriously at her with his backpack on his back. “They don't age. No one ages.”

“That's when you started suspecting this curse?” she asks, keeping her voice as neutral as possible.

“No,” he says firmly. “That was the book. The one Regina gave me. She's mom's boss. She isn't always very nice to people but that's because she was the Evil Queen and she's not used to being nice again yet.”

“The principal is the former Evil Queen?” Emma raises an eyebrow slightly. “Is the Mayor in this book too?”

Henry nods eagerly. “He cast the curse. He's the Dark One.”

“Of course he is,” Emma murmurs, putting a hand on Henry's shoulder and guiding him out. “So who are your parents in this curse thing?”

Henry tilts his head and looks at her for a long time. “I'm not sure you're ready for that yet.”

“Oh yeah? What will it take to make me ready?”

Henry looks at her very seriously, and for a moment she could swear she sees something of David Nolan in that expression, in him. Which is crazy since it's Henry's adoptive father, but she still can't shake the similarity. Maybe children do take after parents regardless of DNA.

“Time,” Henry simply says. 

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_Carving is a fine art. Geppetto has always found solace in shaping wood, carving extraordinary art out of simple shapes. It is a sort of magic, a magic with a price he can name for he is a master of it._

_To carve this wardrobe that will carry the savior to safety he has named the price of his son's safety as well. Little Pinocchio, the son that he carved out and then witnessed become a real boy. For his son he will do this, carry out this terrible deception. The prince and his wife do not know, will not know, that the wardrobe takes two._

_“Parents shape their children, but I guess in your case you took it literally,” a voice says behind him. He whips around to see the Evil Queen – former Evil Queen now, he supposes – regard him and Pinocchio._

_“What are you doing here?” he asks, holding out his tool as the only weapon he can think of._

_“Relax,” she says. It makes him do nothing of the sort. “If I was still the Evil Queen this little deception of yours would probably amuse me, knowing the heartache it must cause Snow and her beloved.”_

_He lowers his head, knowing it to be true._

_“As it is,” she continues, “I have no interest in stopping you. In fact, I have something for your son to bring with him.”_

_“He will take no gifts from you,” Geppetto says hotly._

_“Gift?” Regina says, smiling without any warmth. “It is not a gift. It is a loan. One he will return to me.”_

_“I don't understand.”_

_She ignores him, leaning down to meet Pinocchio's curious, honest gaze._

_“I have a book for you, Pinocchio. One you are to take with you to the other world. You will take it and you will keep it safe and one day when you find where I am in this other world, you will return it to me. It is very important. Do you understand?”_

_“No,” Pinocchio says honestly. “But I will do it anyway. I promise.”_

II

Present day

II

Regina can't sleep, watching the clock tower a touch absentmindedly. It is moving again now, another sign the curse is weakening. It will continue weakening, she supposes, losing its grip on the town until Emma does whatever she needs to do to break it.

But then what? Rumpelstiltskin always plays the long game, he must intend for something beyond the curse breaking. She must find out what. 

She will need the things she arranged to bring to this world for what is to come. The book has in a sense fulfilled its purpose already, even if it wasn't the one she intended. She thought it would make her remember reading all their stories that she had written down, making Pinocchio send it to her in this world. Instead she thought it merely fairytales and gave it to Henry, sweet little Henry, and it made him see the truth and bring Emma here.

The other things she must still reclaim, but carefully. Rumpelstilskin must not know, must not suspect. He will be watching her quite closely, that is a given. She knew he would start to the moment she went to Belle.

That was the whole point, after all. Do the things the Evil Queen would do. Make him see her, the role he carved for her as expertly as a master woodcarver could.

He still has no idea what Regina is capable of. 

She'll teach him.


	13. Chapter Twelve

II

**Chapter Twelve**

II

Present day

II

Despite Henry's eager chatting far into the night, Emma wakes up early in the morning. For a while she just lies awake, letting her mind wander. This is going to be her home for a while, this Storybrooke. She's given Henry a promise, she's accepted a job and she's established some sort of rapport with David and Mary Margaret Nolan.

A brand new world, this. Storybrooke. Henry's world, possibly to become hers as well. Possibly. 

She turns over on her side to regard Henry sleeping in the bed next to hers. He looks so young when he sleeps, and she can almost see the baby he once was in his face. 

The one she gave up. 

Pushing that thought away, she rises from bed, giving Henry a gentle shake. He stirs immediately, giving her a wide smile as he opens his eyes.

“Come on, kid,” she says brightly. “Let's see how your parents are doing.”

II

Mary Margaret always knows when her husband is lying. It's so obvious to her she wonders how anyone else could be fooled by it, but apparently they are. Because David is telling Dr. Whale the headaches haven't come back at all and he's fine, and Dr. Whale is believing it.

She's not. 

“David,” she says sternly the moment Whale leaves the room. “You should tell him.”

He gives her a slightly guilty look. “It was just a slight headache couple of times during the night. I'll be fine. I just want to go home. I just want to take you all home.”

She nods as he takes her hand. “I want to go home too.”

“You will,” he assures her. “I'll take a few days off work and stay home to look after you. I'll be at your beck and call; your every desire will be catered to.”

“Every?”

“Every,” he assures her in a low voice, leaning forward to kiss her. She leans into it, moaning softly as he deepens the kiss and moves his hand to her ear.

“Mo-ooom! Da-aaad!” Henry complains from the door, a tones of resigned exasperation to his voice. David smiles against her lips for a moment before breaking the kiss, giving her a look that promises to pick it up later.

“Good morning, Henry,” David says as he turns around, opening his arms as Henry runs into them. Lifting him up, he brings their son up high enough to hug Mary Margaret as well.

“Morning, mom,” Henry whispers into her hair, and she hugs him back fiercely. From the corner of her eye she can see Emma watch it all. 

“Good morning, Emma,” she says. David, still holding Henry, turns as well, and Emma seems a little uncomfortable suddenly being the center of attention.

“Survived the night, I see.”

“Yeah,” David answers lightly. “You survived as well, I see.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Emma says just as lightly. “Touch and go there, but I managed.”

Mary Margaret laughs, as does David and Emma. Only Henry makes a face at being the joke, but then smiles a little secretively as well, clearly secretly enjoying it. 

“They're going to let mom come home today,” David tells Henry, who beams. “What do you say we go home and make it ready for her?”

“Yeah!” Henry agrees, and David winks at Mary Margaret as he leads their son out. 

“I better go,” Emma says, but Mary Margaret holds up a hand. 

“Wait, please. Henry seems to have had a great time with you.”

“Yeah, well. He's a great kid.”

Mary Margaret nods several times, forcing back a lump in her throat. “David and I, we've decided that if you want to, you can be a part of his life. Spend time with him while you're here.”

Emma seems to digest that for several moments. “You know it was a closed adoption and that you don't have to, right?”

“We know.”

Emma blinks back what might be tears, offering a strained smile. “Thanks, I.... I appreciate that. I'll let you get some rest.”

She slips out and Mary Margaret leans back, feeling strangely uplifted by it all. Perhaps this is the beginning of a good thing after all. Perhaps this will all work out. Perhaps.

II

“You do realize this is against medical advice?” Dr. Whale says, as he's said several times now. Belle just nods this time. “All right, I will discharge you.”

“About time,” Belle mutters angrily, watching him walk out while he's shaking his head. So be it. He wouldn't be the first one she's refused to please. 

He's not going to be the last, she thinks as the Mayor walks into her room. He looks more unaffected today, looking at her with more composure. But she hasn't forgotten his visit last time nor what Regina told her. 

“Good morning,” he offers. “I assume you've been well taken care of?”

“What do you care?” she asks smartly, gauging his reaction. “I don't even know you.”

“You don't know me,” he agrees. It sounds almost sad. “Why were you in such a hurry to leave town? You could have caused Mrs. Nolan serious injury. You were both very fortunate.”

“Doesn't feel like it,” Belle says sharply. “Are you here to tell me I'll be facing charges?”

“No. I've seen to it that you won't.”

She steps out of the bed, watching him as she walks closer. He doesn't move, not even when she gets right up in his face.

“What, am I supposed to thank you for that? You expect gratitude? Don't you know I'm the heartless one?”

“You're not heartless,” he says emphatically. 

“No? Do you know why it feels like I have no heart? Why it hurts? Do you?”

He is silent, but something in his eyes seem almost pained. 

“Until you're ready to tell me, leave me alone,” she says sharply, tip-toeing as she leans forward and kisses him. Hard, not a caress at all, yet his lips remain soft against hers.

As she breaks the kiss, she gives him a slight shove. He looks at her with such a controlled face she almost wants to scratch at it, see what's underneath what he wants everyone to see. There must be something beyond his act, beyond his riches, beyond _this_. Instead she walks off, feeling the heart beating in her chest contract sharply as she does.

Funny. It's almost as if it isn't hers.

II

David sees Emma come out of his wife's room a little hurriedly, then pause further down the hallway and lean against the wall. She looks a little dazed.

Carefully, he approaches, pausing a few feet away to lean against the wall as well.

“You all right?” he asks gently. She looks up startled and he realizes she hasn't heard him approach.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I thought you and Henry had left already.”

“I had to sign some discharge papers and Henry wanted to see Regina's father. Henry Mills. He's got a heart condition, he's been in hospital a long time.”

“Henry Mills,” Emma repeats. “I'm guessing the similar names are not a coincidence?”

“You're guessing right. We named Henry after him. Mary Margaret, she volunteered at the hospital before we had Henry, our Henry. She brought Henry Mills flowers every day. He became a good friend. He likes Henry, I think he likes to think of himself as an honorary grandfather.”

“It's nice to have a family,” Emma observes and he knows, just knows Emma Swan would have liked one more than anything. How any parent could have given up a child like Emma, he has no idea. 

“Yeah,” he agrees softly. “It's nice to have a family.”


	14. Chapter Thirteen

II

**Chapter Thirteen**

II

Present day

II

When the knock on the door comes, Henry bolts to answer it happily, thinking it must be Emma. Dad is still hanging up the banner in the kitchen, giving him a fond look. But it isn't Emma. It's Regina.

“Henry,” she says pleasantly. Her eyes soften as they usually do when she looks at him. They both pretend he doesn't know the extra gift at his birthday comes from her, and mom pretends the same. 

“Hey Regina,” he says happily. “Mom is coming home today.”

“I heard,” she says, as David comes to join them, putting a hand on Henry's shoulder. “I brought some flowers and best wishes for her recovery.”

“Thank you,” dad says, accepting the offered bouquet with a slight air of confusion. Regina isn't usually as openly nice, Henry knows.

“Snowdrops,” Regina says and Henry bites back an exclamation. “They can survive a lot. They remind me of your wife.”

“Thank you,” dad repeats, sounding more puzzled by the minute. “I'll tell her you stopped by.”

Regina tilts her head, then looks at Henry and winks. He looks after her as she walks off, his mind abuzz with new possibilities. 

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_“Why?”_

_Regina has been waiting for the question since this morning, since she publicly asked for forgiveness and was granted it. Sooner or later, the question would come._

_Snow White is standing in the doorway, for a moment looking so young as the light of the torches catches the angles of her face._

_“You heard why. I told the whole kingdom,” Regina says, hearing the bitterness in her own voice. “I sincerely regret my actions and the pain they've caused you all.”_

_“No,” Snow says softly. “You don't. Not yet. Maybe you will one day, but not yet, Regina. So I ask again. Why?”_

_“My father begged me,” Regina says after a moment. “I did it for him. Is that enough for you?”_

_“Yes,” Snow says softly, exhaling a little. “That's enough for me as long as it's enough for you.”_

_Enough, Regina thinks and watches the young, still so young, girl she once wanted to love and then hated. Still hates, will always hate a little, but not completely. Never entirely. Like Snow hates her a bit too, but it's not just hate between them._

_She thinks of her father too, his love for her and hers for him. His absolute conviction that she could still love someone else again too. She was ready to love young Snow White. Perhaps another child could evoke the same again._

_Enough?_

_Maybe._

II 

Present day

II

“Hello dad,” Regina says as she walks into his room. He looks up at her with a smile, holding out a hand that she takes. Over his bed, she can see the heart monitor pick up a little. 

“I was expecting you earlier,” he says.

“Yes. I stopped by the Nolans. Mary Margaret was in an accident. She'll recover.”

“Mary Margaret,” her father says softly. “She was so kind. Her son too, young Henry. Every Sunday, always with a story.”

“He likes stories,” Regina agrees easily. That's why she gave him the book, after all. “Father, I've made a decision. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

“What is it, my child?”

“I'm going to run for Mayor this coming election. Against Mr. Gold,” Regina says firmly and her father pales. 

“But why? He always wins. No one dares challenge him.”

“Exactly. I think it's time this town had a choice, don't you? Everyone should have a choice.”

II

“Welcome home,” David murmurs, pressing a kiss against Mary Margaret's temple as he lifts her up. She leans her head against his shoulder as he carries her inside, Henry skipping merrily next to them.

“It's good to be home,” she says and he remembers...

_...carrying her across the threshold once before, into their castle, into their new home where they would reign jointly after taking back the kingdom as the family they promised to be..._

The pain shooting through his head is blinding, but he manages to keep his balance and not double over in pain and drop his wife. He clenches his jaw as he fights to put one foot in front of the other and ease her down onto their bed before sitting down himself. 

“David?” she asks softly.

“Dad?” Henry echoes. 

“I'm fine, I'm fine,” he offers weakly, as the pain and the image fades. He can feel Mary Margaret take his head in her hands and make him look at her.

“You're not fine. Please promise me you'll see Dr. Whale about this.”

“Tomorrow,” he offers. “I just want to have an evening with my family after all we've been through.”

“All right,” she agrees. “Tomorrow then.”

He nods, shifting position so he's got his back against the headboard while being careful not to come near Mary Margaret's injured leg. Henry climbs into bed as well, easing in between them as Mary Margaret leans her head against David. 

“Dad?” Henry asks, looking at the bouquet of snowdrops. “Could you read the story about Snow White for me and mom? From the book Regina gave me?”

“Aren't you a bit old for fairytales?” David asks teasingly. “I know your mother's not.”

Mary Margaret gives him a soft shove with her elbow against his chest, but he simply presses another kiss to her temple. 

“Not this one,” Henry says, sounding determined. “This one's special.”

“Why's that?” Mary Margaret asks, giving David a worried look. She's worried it has something to do with Henry's fantasy about a curse on this town, he knows.

“Because it has my favorite people in it,” Henry says and Mary Margaret relaxes, smiling a little. “I love them.”

“I'll read it,” David promises, ruffling his son's hair lightly. “Let's see who these people you love are.”

II

The Rabbit Hole is only half full as Emma walks in, taking in the local flavor of Storybrooke's afternoon drinkers. Most of them seem unhappy, a few just indifferent and some too into their drink to be much of anything but potential trouble.

“Emma!” Graham calls from a table and she saunters over, giving him a look. 

“This is your idea of sheriff work?” she asks and he just smiles. 

“Belle left the hospital already, I thought I'd approach her here where she's in her element. Meanwhile you, as the not yet official deputy, can see what may be gleaned from the local gossip.”

“The gossip here is going to be me, judging by how people look at me.”

“I have full confidence in your ability to be charming,” he says, giving her a smile and walking off. She sighs, but approaches the bar anyway.

“New in town?”

She doesn't need to look up to know the kind of guy who's the first to walk up to her. Confident, swagger in his walk, belief in his own charm, probably quite single-minded in pursuit of a goal since he would ditch his mates this fast to approach her. 

“New in town,” she agrees. “You're old in town, I gather.”

“Not quite,” he offers breezily. “Name's Killian.”

“Emma.”

“Good name,” he says, as she looks at him. Yeah. Confidence all over him, not bad-looking, one hand in his pocket and the other by his side. “I'll be seeing you, Emma.”


	15. Chapter Fourteen

II

**Chapter Fourteen**

II

Present day

II

Henry has gotten good at not just watching, but _seeing_. 

It's how he first noticed something was wrong, after all. It's like how mom taught him bird watching. Day by day, watching them and actually seeing what they did, that's how to become familiar with birds.

He's found it works with people too. Watch them and see. 

When dad gets to the part with Snow hitting Prince Charming with a rock and causing a scar on his chin, Henry looks intently at dad's chin scar and sees. Dad just continues the story with a clear voice, never skipping a beat. Mom listens with a half smile, touching the ring on her hand. Every now and then she glances up at dad with a fond smile, but doesn't comment on the story.

Their story, but they don't know it. 

They have to remember. Emma, she'll make them remember. Then they can all be a family. 

When there's a knock on the door, dad pauses in the story right as Charming was kissing Snow's memory back (certain things haven't changed with the curse, Henry thinks – they still kiss an awful lot, dad even giving mom a peck now as he rises from the bed). It's still Henry who gets to the door first, almost tearing it open to see Emma smiling at him.

“Hey kid,” she says.

“Emma,” David greets her cordially. “Come in.”

“I'm only staying a minute,” Emma says, stepping inside. She's dressed quite warmly, Henry notices. “Could I talk to your wife for a moment?”

“Sure,” dad says, leading her through the living room and into the bedroom. Henry follows, watching and seeing dad wince a little in pain again as Emma walks past him. Weird. 

“How are you feeling, Mrs. Nolan?” Emma asks.

“Mary Margaret,” mom says, smiling. “Much better, thank you.”

“Good,” Emma says, giving Henry a faint smile as if she's happy for him. “I just want you to know I'll be watching the house tonight. Just in case.”

“Graham asked you to take the night shift on your first day?” dad asks, sounding displeased.

“Officially, it's not my first day yet. We're keeping my new job a bit quiet at first, to see what I might uncover without a badge. Secondly, he didn't ask.”

“Oh,” dad says, and mom's face softens. They both watch Emma, but they don't really see, not yet. “Well, thank you.”

“Don't mention it,” Emma says, as if it's not a big deal when they all know it is.

Adults, Henry thinks. They're a lot stranger than birds. 

II

Mary Margaret falls asleep at some point during the evening, waking to find the house very quiet and with only a faint light emanating from the kitchen.

“David?” she calls and he appears in the doorway moments later, smiling at her. He's changed to sleepwear, she notices. It must be late. 

“Hey,” he says. “I made Henry food and sent him to bed an hour ago.”

She nods. “Emma, is she...?”

“Watching the house from her car,” he replies. “I went out with some coffee and hot soup for her earlier.”

“Aren't you a real Prince Charming?” she jokes, and he crawls into bed next to her, cupping her face in his hands.

“Only yours,” he offers, kissing her very softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she assures him. He looks pained as he draws a finger across the light wound on her head.

“I could have lost you,” he says, and she kisses him reassuringly, once, twice, three, four, and then it's just one long kiss that neither breaks for a long, long time. His body is hard yet soft as she presses herself against it, her fingers digging into the cloth of his shirt as she pulls at it.

She wants him, she realizes. Here, now, in their home that she thought she may never see again. Never see him again, but he found her or maybe she found him. Maybe both.

She loves him and she wants him and she will claim him, a strangely possessive thought she isn't sure where comes from except somewhere deep inside her.

“Mary Margaret,” he murmurs, the sound of her name a little muffled since he hasn't quite broken the kiss. “You're injured, I don't want to...”

“You said my every need,” she reminds him, sighing a little as his fingers finds an area of skin to caress where her shirt has moved up a little. “I need _you_.”

David does cater to that as it turns out; he gives her skin against skin, lips brushing lips and bodies joined, and she has him just as he has her, a two-way claim no one can dispute.

Her David. Her husband. 

“I love you,” he whispers and she falls asleep to that. 

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_She is running._

_The ground of the forest is mostly soft under her feet, the occasional branch or stone or hard-packed earth slightly harder, but mostly moss. This is an older part of the forest, but she knows it. She knows the forest after so much time living in it, hiding in it, making it home._

_Now she is hiding again, but her pursuer is persistent. Very persistent and she runs in the full knowledge he will be right behind her._

_Or right in front of her, she suddenly notices. She can't turn away in time and then she is caught. He pushes her back, trapping her between his body and a tree._

_“I found you,” he says, breathing a bit heavily. Not just from the running, she knows, and feels her own breath turn a little ragged. She can feel his gaze fall on her lips and his own lips part slightly._

_She wants him. Here, now, in the forest that was her home, the forest where he first found her. She loves him and she wants him and she will claim him. He's hers and she's his and the possessive thought of it thrills her._

_They move in for the kiss at the same time, bodies still pressed against each other. He tugs at her lips, she scrapes her teeth across his and then his tongue brushes hers and they kiss, kiss, and kiss while he carefully lowers her to a soft area of the ground. She can smell earth and leather and something that is just him, all of it mingled together as she closes her eyes._

_“I love you,” she murmurs into the kiss. She can feel him draw a breath at that, her hands pressed against his chest still._

_“Snow,” he says, the way he says her name always like a declaration of love in itself. “I love you. In this world and beyond.”_

_“Charming,” she breathes, opening her eyes again to find him looking at her as if she is the world. Her Charming, her David, her husband._

_“This world and beyond,” she agrees._

II

Present day

II

Panting, Mary Margaret opens her eyes and feels completely disoriented for a moment. Forest. There was a forest and David was there and she was there and it was right, so right. 

David is here too, she realizes, nestled against her side and with a hand linked with one of hers. He is sleeping, his face peaceful and she reaches out to touch it. She draws her fingers across his forehead, brushing his nose, his cheek and then lingering on his lips. 

A dream, she convinces herself. Just a dream. She loves him so much, of course she would dream about him. 

“David,” she says softly, lowering her fingers to the scar on his chin. Her eyes slide shut again and she can hear her own breathing slow. Yes. Just a dream. 

“Snow,” he murmurs sleepily, and she opens her eyes in shock. “Love you. This world and beyond.” 

Oh, she thinks faintly. The dream, he called her that then, he said those words then, and she... She called him by another name. He can't know what she's been dreaming, surely he can't know. Unless it's not a dream. 

“Charming?” she tries, feeling more than a little silly. 

“Mmm,” he breathes, pressing himself a little closer. “I'm here. Go to sleep, Snow.” 

Strange, she thinks. This feels much more like waking up.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

II

**Chapter Fifteen**

II

Present day

II

“Good morning, Sidney,” Regina says, sliding into the booth next to him. “How are you this fine morning?” 

“Principal Mills,” Sidney greets back, taking a calm sip of his coffee. It's early morning at Granny's so practically everyone is drinking coffee to cope with the onslaught of a new day. “How can the Mirror help you today?”

“It is more what I can do for the Mirror,” Regina counters smilingly. “How would you like a front page headline?”

He gives her a thoughtful look. “How do you know it's worth the front page?”

“For a paper with previous headline highlights such as 'Clockwork Diswonder: Why won't it work?' and 'Rumors of invisible ship has residents rattled'? Oh, I know.”

“You try finding headlines in a town like this,” Sidney grumbles. “The Nolan abduction was pure gold , but before that? Nothing ever happens in Storybrooke.

“I have a feeling that's about to change.”

“What makes you say that?”

Regina doesn't reply right away, merely looks up as Emma Swan walks into the diner with the look of someone in dire need of coffee indeed. Giving them just a brief glance, the blonde heads straight for Ruby and orders two cups. Extra large.

“Just a hunch,” Regina finally says, returning her attention to Sidney. “I am going to run for Mayor.”

Sidney immediately lights up. Front page indeed. Abduction and politics? Maybe this town will finally have something worth writing about.

“Tell me more...”

II 

_FTL, the past_

II

_“I don't want to do this,” Snow says again. She's been saying that over and over again since they learned the wardrobe can only take one. Over and over again he's told her she has to, even as it breaks his heart._

_“It's the only way,” he says, trying not to think of 28 years without her. “You'll go in there and you'll be safe.”_

_“You won't be. The curse will make you forget,” she whispers. “Charming, I'll lose you.”_

_“No,” he says intently, taking her into his arms. “Nothing this heartfelt can be truly lost. I'll remember again. You'll make me remember. Have faith, Snow.”_

_She breathes slowly as she considers his words. Then she nods, pulling him into a desperate kiss. He kisses her back just as much, keeping a hand on her stomach all the while._

_He'll remember someday. He has to; he can't forget this family._

II

Present day

II

Mary Margaret is awake when David returns home, sitting up in bed with a look of determination on her face. He leans down to kiss her softly, but the look is still there when he pulls back again. 

Carefully, he sits down on the bed. “I took Henry to school. I didn't want to wake you.”

“Good,” she says absentmindedly. 

“What is it?” he asks, taking her hand in his. 

“David, have you been having... Have you had any strange dreams or remembered strange things lately?”

He goes very still, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible. “What do you mean?”

“Last night I dreamt we were in a forest together. But we used different names. You called me Snow and I called you Charming.”

“I was reading Henry's story just before we went to bed,” he points out softly. “Snow White and Prince Charming.”

“I know,” she says, but her face still holds that same peculiar expression. “But when I woke from it, you whispered something to me that you'd said in the dream. Something that wasn't in the book. You answered to me calling you Charming, David.”

“Who wouldn't want to be called that?” he jokes weakly, but Mary Margaret just looks at him intently, reading his face. He knows he can't lie to her, could never lie to her – she knows him too well now. 

“I have had flashes of something I don't understand,” he admits. “Images. Feelings. They're mine but not mine. They're fleeting, I don't even know if they're real.”

“That's what is causing the headaches you've been having.”

“Yes.”

“What's going on with us?” she asks, looking a little lost. He moves to sit next to her, pulling her down against his chest and stroking her shoulder softly.

“I don't know. We'll figure it out. Have faith, Mary Margaret.”

_Have faith, Snow._

There it is again, the pain of it as sharp as a sword and he distantly wonders just what it's trying to cut through.

II

“You brought me coffee?” Graham asks as Emma Swan strides into the sheriff station as if she owns it already.

“No,” she says simply, putting both cups down. “They're for me.”

“Long night?”

“Boring night.”

“Ah,” he says. He can imagine it would be. The Nolans live on a quiet street and Storybrooke is normally a quiet town to begin with. “I found a partial tire print near the cabin. If we match it, we may have our first lead.”

Emma nods, sipping her coffee thoughtfully. “Sloppy. The unlocked door, the tying Mary Margaret up so loosely she escaped, the tire print... It's all sloppy.”

“Not all criminals are masterminds,” he points out. 

“No,” she agrees. “But there is dumb and there is deliberately dumb.”

“What do you think, that someone kidnapped Mary Margaret only to let her escape? What would be the point of that?”

“I don't know yet,” Emma says, giving him a look across the room. “I don't like mysteries.”

“You picked the wrong job to accept then, Deputy,” he jokes and she gives him something that could be a faint smile.

“Not if I solve them all,” she says.

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_The curse is pouring into the sky, eating into the land. Soon it will take them too, Belle knows, but still Rumpelstiltskin only stands there, waiting. She supposes there is no point in running. It will come for them all, rip into them all and do so powered by her heart._

_“What will this curse do?” she asks, the wind whipping at her._

_“Take us all to another land. You'll forget who you truly are. You'll have a new life there.”_

_“It will take away our memories?”_

_“Just bury them. One day they will be restored.” He looks thoughtful. “Them first of all, I suspect. She is their daughter. Yes. They may start to remember while the rest still sleep.”_

_“I'll forget too?” she asks. He finally turns to look at her._

_“Yes,” he says simply, dropping his usual act and mannerisms. “It will be better for you not to remember. I'll remember, Belle. I'll remember for you.”_

_“But when the curse is broken, everyone's memories will be restored. Mine as well. I'll know who you are. I'll know what you've done.”_

_“Yes, you will,” he says. It sounds almost sad. “I expect you will hate me.”_

_She wants to hate him, but without her heart she can't even do that. She still remembers loving him too, all that love she had for him in the heart he ripped out of her._

_Maybe it will be better, Belle thinks as the curse comes at them. Maybe it will be better to forget. Maybe some things shouldn't be remembered. Maybe her true curse will start when this one ends and her memories return._

_Rumpelstiltskin embraces her as the curse hits; she closes her eyes and welcomes forgetting._


	17. Chapter Sixteen

II

**Chapter Sixteen**

II

Present day

II

The knock on her office door is so brief Regina barely registers it before the door opens and Henry walks in. He approaches her desk without fear, smiling a little at her. 

“I don't recall saying 'come in',” she says, but he looks undeterred.

“You always invite me in.”

“It's not polite to assume, Henry.”

“Even when it's true?”

“Even when it may be true.”

He considers. “So I shouldn't assume you gave mom snowdrops on purpose and ask you instead?”

“It is a lovely flower,” she suggests, watching his bright, curious face. She can see the grandparents in him now that she is looking. Snow and Charming's grandson and son at the same time. What a complicated puzzle Rumpelstiltskin likes to create.

“That's not the only thing you did,” Henry says firmly. “You gave me the book too.”

“You like mysteries, Henry?”

“I like solving them.”

“You know that the detective don't get all the answers right away, right?”

“Yeah. Otherwise it wouldn't make a very good story.”

“Exactly,” she says. “The story is just starting. Now run along to class, Henry.”

He gives her another look before walking out again and she looks after him thoughtfully. Henry Nolan. How shall he fit into it all?

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_The sun filters through the leaves, making a pattern of light across the forest floor. David watches it as it changes slightly as the wind ruffles the leaves, moving across ground and Snow's skin. His fingers are moving across her skin as well, making their own pattern as they go._

_“Mmm,” Snow sighs softly. Her eyes stay closed as she lies on her back. She's dressed in his shirt and nothing else, as her clothes lie discarded around them. He's just wearing the pants he's pulled back on, lying on his stomach and feeling warm in the spring sunlight. They'll have to get dressed again sooner or later and return to their castle and royal appearances, but right now it feels like there is no hurry to do anything._

_“We were supposed to go hunting,” he reminds her, picking a flower and drawing it across her shoulder where his shirt is pulled down a little._

_She opens her eyes and gives him a mischievous grin, the smile fading a little as she notices the flower in his hand._

_“Snowdrop,” she says, a shadow crossing her face. “My mother loved them more than anything. She said they reminded her of me. I was born during the harshest winter she had known, yet snowdrops still came in the spring.”_

_He watches her face intently, seeing the grief on it. She loved her mother, he can tell, and one day she'll love a child as a mother herself._

_“I lost my father in the fall,” he tells her, and she tilts her head to look at him. “For so many years grief was the only thing I could feel when I saw the trees shed their leaves.”_

_She nods softly as he braids the flower into her hair. She understands, as he does, the pain of losing a parent when young._

_“One day,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to her neck, “we will tell our child about snowdrops and spring just as your mother told you.”_

_“One day,” she agrees, rolling him over and straddling him. The sun frames her body like a cloak as she leans down to kiss him and he knows there will be no hunting today at all._

II

Present day

II

David wakes abruptly, for a moment feeling completely disoriented. The forest. They were in the forest. Her and him caressed by the sun and surrounded by flowers. The sensations of it seem to linger in his mind, this time not fading at all even as he takes in his surroundings.

Mary Margaret is sleeping against his shoulder. There is no sun, only the light of the apartment surrounding them. A quick glance at the time tells him Henry is still at school, so he must have drifted off with Mary Margaret and had an unusually vivid dream. 

His eyes fall on the bouquet of snowdrops on the table next to the bed.

The flowers. The ones Regina brought. They were in the dream too. Very carefully, he stretches out a hand to pick one, turning it around in his hand. 

“You had it too then,” Mary Margaret says breathlessly and he turns his head to see her awake and looking at him. 

“Yes,” he says. “You were born during the harshest winter...”

“... Yet snowdrops still came in the spring,” she finishes. “I don't know what this is, but it can't be just dreams, David.”

“No,” he agrees, watching her face, remembering her with longer hair and a different air about her. “This started after...”

“After Emma came to town,” Mary Margaret finishes.

Emma, he thinks, his mind humming. _Emma_? 

II

Emma sighs as she leans against her car, watching what passes for the main street of Storybrooke. The day has so far turned up no leads in Mary Margaret's abduction and her head still hurts from the lack of sleep.

It won't stop her from watching their place tonight as well though, she knows. (For Henry. And maybe also a tiny bit for Mary Margaret and David too, who seem like the sort of parents she would have loved to have as a child.) Graham has technically ordered her to get some sleep, but Graham is not the boss of her even if he is the boss to her. Or something like that.

“Good morning, Miss Swan,” a pleasant voice says and Emma looks up to see Regina Mills walk over. Mary Margaret's boss, if she remembers correctly (and she tends to). 

“Good morning, Miss Mills,” she counters. 

“I understand we'll have the pleasure of your continued stay here in Storybrooke.”

“Yeah,” Emma simply says, not rising to whatever bait is being dangled at her.

“Gold must be so pleased,” Regina observes. “He arranged the adoption, you know. For David and Mary Margaret. He brought Henry here. Mary Margaret told me, though she was hazy on the details.”

“Mayor Gold did?”

“Why, yes.” Regina smiles a little. It is not exactly a warm smile, Emma thinks, but nor is it directed at her. 

“If he arranged it, he must have known the details,” Emma says slowly. Too many things in this town seem to come back to Gold and she has never believed in coincidences. 

“I dare say he did,” Regina offers. “Perhaps he even knows who the father was, if you named him.”

They both watch as the school bus pulls up and Henry comes bolting out, beaming the moment he spots Emma. A smile so much like his father, Emma thinks faintly, and then tries not to think about Neal at all.

II

From the window, Gold can see Regina talk to Emma. Stirring up what she can, he has no doubt, if only to see what he'll do about it. The two women chat amicably enough until Henry comes running over from the school bus to his birth mother. With a smile, Regina departs the scene, leaving mother and son to chat. To smile at each other, to get to know each other, to start bonding. 

That's the key, he knows. Make them love each other. Make all of them love each other, the little Charming family unit. Emma is the product of true love. It must be through love that she will break the curse, even if he can't see how yet. 

And then, then he can use Henry to do what he's waited 28 years for.

Get Bae to Storybrooke. Or as he calls himself now, Neal Cassidy. 

Henry's father.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

II

**Chapter Seventeen**

II

Present day

II

“So what's the status in Operation Python?” Henry asks and Emma gives him a look. “It's the code name for breaking the curse.” 

“Python, really? I didn't know those were a common feature in fairytales.” 

“Pythons have nothing to do with fairytales, that's why it's a brilliant code name.” 

Impressive logic for a ten-year-old, she has to admit, as she sees David hurry up to them.

“Hey dad,” Henry says happily as David leans down to give him a brief hug. 

“Sorry I'm late, Henry,” David says apologetically. He lifts his open gaze to her, making her shift her feet a little. “Hello, Emma.” 

“Hi. I was just here accidentally, I wasn't stalking Henry or anything.”

“I didn't think you were,” he assures her and sounds sincere. 

“So why are you late? Did you have to help mom to rest again?” Henry asks innocently.

David goes still, not meeting Emma's gaze while Emma tries to keep a straight face. Rest. Right. She hasn't heard that term for it before. 

“Your mother and I were just... Doesn't matter. I'm here now. Actually, I'm glad I caught you as well, Emma.” David lifts his gaze to her again. “Would you like to come to dinner tonight?” 

“Please?!” Henry adds eagerly.

Henry beams at her, and David keeps looking at her with such bright blue eyes that Emma wonders just when wanting to see them happy actually became a priority for her.

II

From his window, Gold can see David and Emma chat somewhat happily with Henry between them, and he smiles at the scene. His smile falters somewhat when he sees Belle walk down the street as well, a desolate air seeming to cling to her.

The phone rings sharply, and he leaves watching the family scene to pick up. 

“I'm turning back into wood. She's there, isn't she?” 

“Hello to you too, August,” Gold says. “How are you enjoying Phuket?” 

“Emma. She's there, isn't she?” 

“Miss Swan arrived in Storybrooke a few days ago. I believe she intends to stay for a while.” 

The other end is silent for a long while. “You still intend for her to break the curse? As you promised me? We had a deal, Gold.” 

“I never break a deal,” Gold says icily, remembering the deal he did break and all he's doing now to make it right again. “She will break the curse. You will have fulfilled your father's promise, although I am not sure this is how he intended for you to do it.” 

“I should never have listened to you,” August says bitterly. 

“As I recall, you came to me and you were paid handsomely for something I would have found out sooner or later.” 

“That your son and the savior found each other and fell in love? That she had his child? You didn't foresee that, did you?” 

What can be from what will be, Gold thinks distantly. That's what the seer told him. That he would learn to separate those from each other. It's still a work in progress. 

Emma Swan and his son. No, he did not foresee that. But he has adapted to it, reshuffled the pieces to fit a new puzzle that he is still creating. 

“I never understood why you didn't take the kid yourself,” August goes on.

August wouldn't, Gold knows. He wouldn't understand the terrible toll of casting such a curse, leaving an emptiness inside. He wouldn't have been able to love that child. Not completely. Not enough. Maybe he never had enough. He once chose power over his own child and that was before the curse. So for Henry, he chose people whose love he trusted, with whose love he'd finally be able to create the most powerful potion of all. 

Snow and Charming. 

“Henry is well taken care of,” Gold says simply. “Enjoy your continued stay in Phuket at my expense. Good day, Pinocchio.” 

“But...” August starts, but Gold merely hangs up. Of course, that won't be the end of it. August will be coming here. To save himself if nothing else, but perhaps also looking for redemption.

He knows the feeling.

II

When Emma knocks on the door, it takes only a few seconds before Henry opens it, looking dressed a little more sharply than usual. He makes an exaggerated bow as well, offering to take her coat. 

She lets him, then walks into what clearly is the best effort of the Nolans. She sees evidence of cleaning, a bouquet of flowers on a set table where Mary Margaret is already sitting. Despite her injuries, she's wearing a dress. David is wearing a shirt and looks smart and both of them smile a little shyly at her.

“I cooked,” David says apologetically. 

“I'm sure it won't kill me,” Emma says lightly.

“Don't be so sure,” May Margaret says seriously, then breaks into a smile a moment later. 

“Dad cooks great pancakes,” Henry says loyally. “Mom just cooks everything else better.”

“Can't argue with the expert,” David says, holding out a chair for Emma as he winks at her. She sits, Henry smiling at her from across the table. The family table with a space set for her too. 

“How are you feeling?” she asks Mary Margaret.

“Better,” Mary Margaret says lightly, David giving her a brief look as if he can tell his wife is lying too. “How was work?”

To her surprise, Emma hears herself chat about her first impressions of Storybrooke while David serves dinner. She joins Mary Margaret and Henry in the gentle mocking of David's cooking, and the conversations flows strangely freely with only a few awkward moments.

Just like a family. Strange. It is almost as if David and Mary Margaret haven't just adopted Henry but her too, that they love him enough for that. 

How would it have been, she wonders, having been raised by parents loving her as much as David and Mary Margaret seem capable of?

II

_Our world, the past_

II

_“I don't even know who my parents are,” Emma whispers to him and Neal draws a hand across her naked back as she lowers her head against the pillow. They're resting in a motel room, literally stealing a few hours of sleep. “They just left me by the side of the road.”_

_“I'm sorry,” he offers sincerely. “My father, he....”_

_He falters. His father. He remembers the hand clasped in his slowly letting go. The last image of his father is one of letting him go._

_“He abandoned me,” he finishes, and Emma looks at him, nodding faintly._

_“Did he love you?”_

_“Not enough.”_

_“I don't even know if mine did,” she says darkly. “How much could they have loved me if they let me go?”_

II

After dinner, David carries Mary Margaret back to bed. She leans back against the pillows gratefully, dozing off for a moment that feels only like a minute but must be longer. As she opens her eyes again, David is changing to sleepwear, looking thoughtful.

“Emma left?” she asks sleepily. 

“No,” he says, smiling faintly. “She fell asleep on the couch while I took Henry to bed, so I tucked her in with a blanket. I guess she didn't have much sleep last night.”

“Mmm,” Mary Margaret says sleepily as he climbs into bed with her. She shifts a little to put her head on his shoulder, resting one hand across his abdomen.

“Did you have any more flashes or dreams?” he asks, kissing the top of her head.

“No,” she says. “Maybe we were just being silly after all.”

“Maybe,” he agrees, but she can tell he doesn't really think so. Neither does she. This is something. She doesn't know what yet, but she'll figure it out. 

She closes her eyes again as sleep beckons once more, feeling strangely at peace, almost as if something lost has been returned to her.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

II

**Chapter Eighteen**

II

Present day

II

Emma wakes abruptly, her mouth dry as she bolts upwards. It's dark around her, so it takes her a moment to realize she's in the Nolans' house. Someone has tucked her in with a blanket and the house is silent, so it must be late at night.

Good third (or thereabouts) impression, she considers. Falling asleep on them. She's even meant to keep an eye on them tonight, but she was planning to do so from outside in her car and not asleep on the couch. Pushing herself off the couch, she wraps the blanket around her without thinking. Carefully she walks through the house, easing open the bedroom door to find the Nolans sleeping.

They're curled up, wrapped in each other as much as the blankets. She watches them for a moment longer, then closes the door softly. Just as quietly, she heads upstairs and opens the door to Henry's room. He's asleep too, also tucked in, the fairytale book set neatly on his bedside table. 

She smiles at that, her smile fading a little as she remembers there is still that bastard who took Mary Margaret out there. For now. Not forever, because she will piece this together, piece it all together. She's going to keep Henry's family safe, protect them as fiercely as she would her own. 

“He's a lovely child,” David Nolan says behind her and she almost jumps out of her skin. “Sorry, didn't mean to startle you.”

She composes herself and closes Henry's bedroom door before turning around. “I'm sorry, I was just...”

“Checking on him,” David finishes, smiling. “The first week we had him, I went into his room every night. Just to check.”

She nods slowly, remembering the first week after she had given Henry up. She would wake during the night sometimes, feeling the loss like a physical ache. Strange how something that caused her so much pain brought this couple such happiness. 

“Didn't mean to wake you,” she says awkwardly, wondering if he noticed her looking in on him and his wife too. Great fourth impression that would make.

“I've been a light sleep lately,” he offers and she imagines having one's loved one abducted would cause that. 

“I should go,” she goes on, but he shakes his head. 

“Stay. It's the middle of the night and I suspect you're planning to watch our house regardless. It's a much better view in here than from your car outside.”

“Sure?”

“Positive,” he assures her and she detects nothing but sincerity in him. “I'm heading back to bed. The couch and blanket is all yours. Good night, Emma.”

“Good night, David.”

She smiles and he smiles back, his smile falling as he hears what she does; the front door creaking open. 

II

The Mayor's office is dark, but Killian Jones has grown used to working from the shadows so it feels almost welcoming. Besides, it complements the black leather. Carefully, he closes the door behind him and takes in the decor.

Not the sort of thing he would imagine Rumpelstiltskin working from, but perhaps that is the point. This is a strange world, utterly unlike Neverland or the Enchanted Forest. Still, he has waited a long time to come here. The bean only worked a few days ago, when whatever curse rested on this place finally weakened. So now he is here.

“Let's see what you have, crocodile,” he murmurs, breaking the desk drawers open. As he shuffles through, most seem like just paper with numbers to him. It's a disadvantage of being in this world only a few days, he supposes. Smee won't be much help there, being little brains and not a lot of muscle either. Besides, the idiot has another task at the moment, one he'll undoubtedly perform poorly.

No, he'll find someone else that knows this world and is willing to work with him. He even has someone in mind and the thought makes him smile faintly. 

One way or another, he will have his revenge. He could just kill Rumpelstiltskin in this land without magic, but not yet. No. For Milah he must do better. He must find a way to hurt the crocodile's heart. 

Wherever that may be.

II

David freezes for a moment as he hears the door creak open, feeling utterly unsure of what to do. Then something seems to click in him, focusing him. This is his family. He has always protected his family.

Emma looks at him and he holds up a finger to his lips. She nods, dropping the blanket as he quietly, quietly starts on the stairs.

He can see the figure moving into their home, a dark silhouette holding what must be a gun. No no no. Mary Margaret, David thinks. This guy – he can tell it's a guy - is not going to hurt Mary Margaret again. He won't let that happen. 

Going for the element of surprise attack, he dives for the guy, Emma right behind. Their attacker turns around at the last moment, hearing them and slamming the gun into Emma's face right as David tackles the guy to the ground. 

Emma groans in pain; the impact knocks the wind out of David for a moment, but he clings on, trying to get his hands around the gun but only managing the guy's arms. A shot goes off, but it looks to only hit the wall. 

They struggle on the floor as David tries to reach the gun and the guy tries to get it angled. Suddenly, the guy makes a cry of pain as something slams into his head and he falls over. The gun falls to the floor, David can see Emma hurriedly dive for it and pick it up.

David manages to free himself, the guy still clutching his head in pain. Above him, Mary Margaret stands, still holding the book she must have slammed into the guy's head.

“Don't hurt my family,” she says, breathing hard. She seems confused by her own actions for a moment, and he realizes she has actually hobbled out of bed at high speed and probably great pain. 

Hurriedly, he gets to her side, letting her lean her weight on him. Emma is looking at them both as if they've grown an extra head or perhaps acquired extra skills.

“Wow,” Emma says after a moment, “guess you didn't need my protection after all.”

Mary Margaret smiles weakly, closing her eyes for a moment. He kisses the top of her head, then her forehead as she puts her arms around him and he lifts her. She sighs as he eases her into the nearest chair, then turns on the lights.

“You all right?” he directs at Emma first, who is bleeding from a wound on the head. Must be where she got hit with the gun.

“Yeah,” she says, keeping her gun pointed squarely at their attacker. “You must be some kind of idiot coming back for Mary Margaret again.”

“I didn't come for Mary Margaret,” the man says. His eyes seem to bulge a little and his face has an expression of desperation. “I've never touched her. You. I came for you.”

“Me?” David asks in confusion. 

“Not you,” the man says angrily, looking up. “ _You_. Emma. You're the savior. You're the only one who can make it work.”

“Make what work?” Emma asks, looking as confused by this turn of events as David feels. “Who the hell are you?”

“Name's Jefferson,” the man apparently called Jefferson says, looking at Emma almost hungrily. David doesn't like it one bit. “Magic. You're the only one who can make magic work.”

Emma looks at him, then David and Mary Margaret. “Wasn't this town supposed to be a quiet one?”


	20. Chapter Nineteen

II

**Chapter Nineteen**

II

_Storybrooke, the past_

II

_He wasn't even supposed to be here, Jefferson thinks. He was supposed to be returning to Grace. He was halfway through the hat, he was halfway into in the Enchanted Forest and so, the curse hit him too._

_But only half. He got pulled to Storybrooke, but with his memories. Too many memories. At least if he had gotten all the way through, he wouldn't remember._

_He wouldn't watch Grace think of another family as her own. He wouldn't watch all the people he knew know nothing of him. He wouldn't notice time never moving forward._

_He wouldn't be going mad._

II

“He won't talk to me,” Graham says, walking up to Emma. She is watching Jefferson through the one-way mirror and Jefferson is staring right back, as if he can feel himself being watched. “He insists it has to be you.”

Emma seems to consider this. “Do you know him at all?”

“No. He seems to have kept to his house at the edge of town.”

“Loner,” Emma sums up. 

“Yes.” He watches her, lifting a hand to touch her head. She goes still, but doesn't move away from his touch. “You should get that wound checked out.”

“Worried about me, Sheriff?”

“Course,” he says lightly. “If my current deputy dies on the job I'll never get a new one.”

“Haha,” she replies, but she looks at him in a way that makes him lower his hand to her cheek, touching ever so lightly. “I better talk to this guy.”

With that, she steps away from the caress and away from him and he watches her go. 

II

“I miss all the fun!” Henry complains as he eats his breakfast – though actually, devours it would a more appropriate description, Mary Margaret is sure. 

“We have to work on your sense of fun,” David says drily. He is drinking his second coffee of the morning, his thigh pressed reassuringly against her own as they sit in a booth at Granny's. Their own home is currently a crime scene, so David brought them all here for food instead. 

“Did you really hit him with a book, mom?” Henry asks, looking undeterred.

“Yes,” she says and their son looks impressed at that. David hides a smile with the coffee cup, but Mary Margaret still spots his amusement and gently shoves her elbow into his side. 

“You were brave too, dad,” Henry adds, shoveling the last piece of food down. 

“I'll follow you to the bus,” David says, squeezing Mary Margaret's thigh under the table to tell her he'll be right back. She nods, taking a sip of her tea as father and son walk out.

Her leg hurts and her head hurts, but she's not about to tell David that or he'll drag her off to see Dr. Whale immediately. He's always been protective of her, just like she's been protective of him, they're...

_… they're always doing this, Snow knows, as she steps between Charming and King George almost automatically, an instinct to protect her beloved, just as he would step between her and the Evil Queen..._

The pain is sharp and Mary Margaret digs her fingers into her temple, trying to ease it. The strange image lingers even as the pain subsides, herself with longer hair stepping in front of David-who-isn't-David with a fierce sense of protectiveness. 

The door opens, but it isn't David returned. It's Regina, almost striding over. 

“Mary Margaret,” Regina greets her. "Where is your charming husband today?"

Charming, Mary Margaret thinks and tries to keep her face still. Regina must still see something, for she smiles faintly. 

“He'll be right back,” Mary Margaret says, tilting her head a little. For some reason Regina seems familiar and yet not lately as well. 

“I am surprised to see you out of bed.”

“We had a small incident at home.”

Regina raises an eyebrow, but Mary Margaret decides not to elaborate, drinking her tea instead. Regina keeps looking at her with a strange glimmer in her eyes, then inclines her head slightly just as the door opens again. This time it is David, keeping the door open to let Regina exit.

“What did she want?” he asks, sliding into the booth again.

“I don't know,” Mary Margaret says honestly, watching his face as he regards her. Charming. Why does it seem such a natural thing to call him? What would Regina know of it, or of the flowers?

“What is it?” he whispers softly, drawing his fingers along her ear as if they aren't surrounded by people and it's just them there.

“Later,” she whispers back, leaning her head against his chest as he shifts slightly to hold her. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he says...

_… “I love you,” Charming whispers, dipping his head down and rubbing his nose lightly against hers. His fingers move along the side of her ear, caressing as he so often does._

_“I love you too,” she whispers and then, then he kisses her..._

The pain is still as sharp as ever as it seems to cut through her head, Mary Margaret finds, but somehow, she thinks what it brings her may be worth it.

II

Regina pauses outside the diner, smiling faintly before walking on. Yes. She's definitely stirred up something there. As she walks past the newsstand, she can see she's stirred up something there too. Her picture is plastered all over the front page, declaring her intention to run for Mayor.

Gold will see that. He certainly won't like it. 

As she turns a corner, a hand comes out and yanks her into the alley. As she turns to protest, she notices just who it is.

“I wasn't expecting you here,” she says, giving him the sort of smile the Evil Queen would be proud of. “What can I do for you, Hook?”

II

Jefferson looks at her the moment she enters, Emma notices, but she merely leans against the wall with folded arms. Many guys have looked at her and thought they knew her. What's one more?

“You think I'm crazy,” he says. He doesn't sound particularly offended by it, merely stating a fact.

“You breaking into my friends' house with a gun and rambling about me being the savior is not exactly making a sane first impression,” she says drily. 

“I had to,” he says. “You're weakening the curse. You have magic. You can make it work.”

“Make what work?”

“The hat. I need it. I need to get my daughter.”

Emma raises an eyebrow. It is clear he believes what he's saying, so she supposes instead of locking him up, he'll get psychiatric care. Still, there is one thing that bothers her.

“What curse?” she asks firmly, thinking of Henry.

“He cast it. The Dark One. He made them all forget who they really are. All but me.”

Like Henry's story, she thinks faintly. He's been keeping an eye on her son. That must be the explanation, must be. Two people believing the same story separately would be too unlikely and the story can't be true. 

Can it?

Without a word, she turns around, heading out the door even as he screams after her, desperation in every syllable.

“You have to do it! You're the savior, you have magic, you have to...!”

Graham is waiting for her as she enters the other room, Jefferson's cries becoming muffled. 

“We need to look at his house,” she says without preamble. “He might need help, but I want to find out just what he's been up to first.”

“You sure he isn't the one who abducted Mary Margaret?” Graham asks, and she shakes her head.

“I'm not sure of anything,” she says, and means it.


	21. Chapter Twenty

II

**Chapter Twenty**

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_There are many reactions to finding a pirate in your bedroom. Regina goes for the obvious one – toss him with magic onto the bed and tie him up with the sheets._

_“Ah,” the pirate says. “The lovely former Evil Queen herself.”_

_“And you are?” she asks in a silken voice._

_“Killian Jones. Hook at your service. I would bow as manners dictate, but alas I appear to be swept off my feet.”_

_She notes the hook on his hand, reaching out to touch it. “An unusual choice of accessory.”_

_“One I owe to the Dark One,” Hook says, and now his voice is dark and sincere for the first time. “I heard you had an association with him.”_

_“Former,” she says simply. “What can I do for you, Hook?”_

_“Tell me how to kill him,” Hook says intensely. She waves a hand, the sheets releasing him. He flashes her something close to a smirk as he sits down on the bed, but she simply watches him._

_“That may be harder than you think.”_

_“I have time.”_

_“Do you have 28 years?” she asks him and he cocks an eyebrow._

_“For him, I have an eternity.”_

II

Hook dressed in Storybrooke clothes rather pirate clothes is a bit of a change, Regina has to admit. Even if it's still leather. 

“Hello, Regina,” he says. “Feels like it's been forever.”

“Feels like it's been 28 years,” she counters. He smiles. 

“Time just flies by when cursed, I gather. You haven't aged a day.”

“Neither have you.”

“It's like magic,” he says cheekily. Then he drops the act, his face becoming dark. “The crocodile. This world holds no magic. Can he be killed here?”

“He may have brought some magic here to protect him,” she says, thinking of a stuffed animal that should be in Emma Swan's possession and the potion she put within it. If she got something through to this world, Rumpelstiltskin could certainly have managed to as well.

Hook considers it. “I will find out. This... Emma Swan, the savior. What do you know of her?”

Regina tilts her head. “What do you care about her?”

“He intends her to break the curse.”

“Yes,” she agrees. “Her death will also break the curse.”

“That crocodile, thinking of everything,” Hook remarks, giving her a savage smile. “Or so he thought. He didn't think of me.”

Nor me, Regina thinks. 

II

Mr. Gold scans the headline of the Storybrooke Mirror by the newsstand with a completely passive face, knowing that everyone is watching him, waiting for a reaction. Of course, he has already seen that headline and read that story at home. 

This reaction is far more rehearsed. He raises an eyebrow slightly, then smiles as if he invites the competition.

Regina, he thinks. What is she trying to do? Aggravate him? Distract him? Work with him? A combination of the three? Against his will, he finds himself smiling at all the possibilities. She's learned. She is not just the pawn he once set in motion, but becoming a queen in her own right.

He may still have to put her out of play if it comes to that. 

Across the street, David exits Granny's diner with Mary Margaret in his arms. She leans her head against his shoulder as he walks, his shoulders set and a confident air about him. Not quite like David Nolan, that. A bit more assertive, in fact. A bit more like Charming. 

That makes him smile also, though his smile falters as he sees Belle hurry past. She doesn't look at him, but he can still tell she's aware of him from the way her body tenses. He feels the familiar urge to follow her, to fall on his knees and beg her to forgive him and maybe even love him again. This is why he never went near her bar. 

Instead he turns and walks briskly to his office, letting his mind wander. Emma's presence and decision to stay here is well and good, but there must be a way to bring her closer to her son and unknowing parents faster. 

As he opens the door to his office, he can immediately tell there is something wrong. Getting closer to the desk, he can see the drawers pulled open. 

A break-in. In _his_ office. Who would even dare? 

Unfortunately, he can think of at least one. 

II

“Hats,” Emma says, and Graham shoots her a look. “Yes, I know, stating the obvious.”

The extremely obvious, Graham thinks. Jefferson's house is filled with hats, most stacked in closets but some also thrown around as if in frustration or anger. There is also a telescope pointed right in the direction of the Nolan residence, making it rather obvious how Jefferson knew where Emma was.

It still doesn’t explain _why_ Jefferson went after Emma pr was even watching her in the first place, of course. 

“He kept calling me the savior,” Emma says, an odd tone to her voice. “He mentioned the curse. Like Henry.”

“What curse?”

“Oh, it's this story Henry told me. That this town has been cursed and that you're all fairytale characters who've forgotten who you really are.”

Graham cocks an eyebrow. “We're all fairytale characters? Who am I?”

“The sheriff of Nottingham?” she suggests.

“That isn't a fairytale.”

“So no one read a lot of fairytales to me as a child,” she says casually, but a little forced casual to his ears. “Point is, how would Jefferson know that Henry called me the savior? How would they believe the exact same thing?”

“You can ask Henry,” he suggests. “I'll talk to the hospital about getting someone from the psych department to look at Jefferson.”

She nods, looking down at the hat she is still holding. “Mad and into hats. That's some diagnosis.”

“Into red jackets and quick to judge,” he counters, and she gives him a look. “Just saying, a first impression doesn't tell all.”

Emma Swan gives him a thoughtful look and he thinks he'd rather like to get to know her whole story even if it isn't a fairytale.

II

“You sure this is a good idea?” Mary Margaret asks, as David carefully eases her down on the grass. 

“It's an idea,” he simply says. “We both dreamt of the forest. Maybe going to a forest will spark something. If it doesn't, we've still had a romantic picnic.”

She smiles at that, watching him as he walks over to the car and retrieves several items. He puts down a blanket as well the food and drinks they brought from Granny's before coming over to pick her up again. She can hear birds around them as he settles them both down on the blanket, letting her rest halfway on top of him. 

“I like it here,” she says softly, drawing her fingers across his chest. In the distance, she can make out the old well. They took Henry there on his last birthday and let him make a wish and throw something in, telling him it was a wishing well. He never did tell them what he wished for. 

“Yeah,” David agrees. He hums a little, making her smile. The song is unfamiliar, but he often hummed when dancing with her on Saturday night dates. It's almost as if the words are lost to him but the melody is not.

“I like Emma,” she tells him suddenly. She lifts her head to look at him and he draws his fingers through her hair. 

“You do?” he asks softly, tenderly.

“Yeah,” she says, swallowing a little. “At first I tried to like her for Henry, but... It's not just Henry.”

“Know what you mean,” he says, a distant look in his eyes. “Sometimes I feel as if I know her.”

“Might be because you know Henry and she's his mother,” she offers. He focuses on her again, and she knows what he's reading on her face.

“You're still Henry's mom,” he says. “He loves you too. More than anything. As I do.”

She kisses him impulsively, feeling his lips curve into a smile against hers. Of course he knows how desperate she is to be a good mother, he knows her better than anyone. As she knows him, knows all of him. He moans a little into the kiss as she deepens it and she knows that sound well too. 

When she pulls back, he smiles at her and draws a finger across her lips. She kisses it before settling her head back on his chest. The forest is quiet, as if waiting; there are just a few birds now and then. She wonders, as she's always done, what the birds sing about. 

“I think Henry is doing better since Emma came,” she says thoughtfully after a while. 

“Mmm,” David agrees lazily. His chest falls and rises as he breathes and she remembers falling asleep to the lull of that so many times. Even in the giant bed in their castle, they always curled up in bed together and...

She draws a sharp breath, trying to hold on to the thought. Their castle. Their bed. Them curled together, always curled together. Snow and Charming. That's who they were. 

That's who they are, she thinks and this time, there is no pain at all.


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

II

**Chapter Twenty-One**

II

Present day

II

Belle drinks her coffee as if it is a lifeline, trying to summon enough willpower to face work later in the day. Another evening shift, another utterly pointless day at work in the long haze of similar days that is her life. 

As she turns the corner to the street with her apartment, she notices Mr. Gold standing outside as if he owns the place – which technically, he does.

The man Regina told her loved her in a different life, whose heart is supposed to beat inside her because her own is gone. It sounded so crazy, and yet... Yet it's almost as if it sounds crazy but feels true.

“Belle!” Gold calls as he spots her. She remains just where she is, letting him come to her at as hurried a pace as he can manage with the cane. 

“The rent isn't due for another week,” she says defensively. 

“The rent is never due,” he says, looking at her face with an intensity that makes her feel exposed - as if he can see right through her. “It is your house. It's always been your house. I bought it for you. All your rent money has gone into a savings account for you.”

Her lips feel strangely stiff and it's hard to form words, she finds. “You mean all this time I've had enough money to leave this town?”

“We can't leave,” he says, shaking his head. There is nothing pretense about him now, no act. It is a strange thing, she thinks, to finally see the real man in him and to find it so human. “None of us can. Not yet. Belle, there was a break-in at my office. Someone went through my financial records. They may discover what I have been doing for you.”

“What do they care?” she counters. “I'm just a barmaid.”

“There was never anything _just_ about you,” Gold says, and he sounds almost angry. Not at her, she doesn't think. At himself? “Belle, listen, I know none of this makes sense now, but if you believe anything, believe that I will keep you safe. I thought keeping you safe would be to stay away from you, but I was wrong. You must come with me. Stay in my house. Let me keep you safe.”

Belle stares at him. He means it, she can tell. He means it absolutely and that terrifies her.

“Why?” she asks. “Why would I need to be kept safe?”

“Because,” he says, infinite sadness in his voice and his eyes as he looks at her. “Because to kill me, they'd have to kill _you_.”

His heart, Belle thinks faintly, folding her arms over her chest almost protectively. She's got his heart.

II

It is nice to have his wife to himself sometimes, David reflects. With Mary Margaret resting on top of him and the forest so quiet around them, like walls encasing them in, he feels strangely at peace. 

“David,” Mary Margaret breathes, the intensity in her voice making him open his eyes. She is looking at him, _seeing him_ , and it makes him feel a little dizzy. His head is already starting to hurt a little.

“Mary Margaret?” he asks, pushing himself and her up so she ends up sitting across his lap.

“No,” she says joyously. “I mean, yes. Her too. But Charming – who am I?”

“Snow,” he says automatically. The familiar pain shoots through his head, but Mary Margaret takes his head in his hands gently, keeping his gaze on her. 

“Who are you?” she whispers. Her eyes seem to hold him in place as his head swims, but then, she always was his anchor. His Snow. His wife. His true love. He knows her. _He knows_. 

The pain fades, but the rest doesn't. 

“I'm David,” he says, and for a moment her face falls a little. “But you named me Charming.”

“Yes,” she agrees, tears of joy in her eyes. He's crying too, he knows, feeling his mind almost drown in memories and emotions that have been buried for 28 years. He is Charming. She is Snow. _Yes._

He isn't sure who moves in for the kiss, maybe both, but suddenly her lips are parting against his and his tongue is brushing against hers and they're kissing, kissing, kissing breathlessly and joyously. Her fingers dig into the skin of his neck as she tries to press him even closer, he lets his hands roam her back while keeping her firmly pressed against him. 

He loves her. Of course he also loved her as Mary Margaret, of course. So much. But he also loves her as Snow, the two now mingling in his head, strengthening each other. He loves her. Snow and Mary Margaret. 

He pulls back for a moment to look at her, look at her bright face and shining eyes. She looks at him too, drinking him in as if she hasn't seen him in years. In a way, he supposes she hasn't. For 28 years she's been looking at David Nolan, but now, now she can see Charming also just as he can see Snow too. 

“Charming,” she murmurs before he lowers his head to kiss her again, drawing her lower lip in between his and tugging lightly. 

“Snow,” he breathes into her, slanting his mouth across hers as she kisses him aggressively back. She moans softly, then shifts position a little to angle herself better and that makes him moan. 

He wants her. Here, now, the need in him rising like a tide as they keep kissing. 

The forest, he remembers. They always liked doing it in the forest as much as in their own bed. Hell, he's even half-way sure Emma was conceived that one day in the forest among the snowdrops. 

_Emma._

The thought shoots sharply through his currently overwhelmed mind, pushing itself to the surface past everything else. His daughter. Snow's daughter. Their daughter. Emma. 

He breaks the kiss abruptly, putting a hand under Snow's chin as she looks at him, both of them breathing heavily. 

“We had a child,” he says intently. Snow's eyes widen and her face displays a number of emotions as he can see her dig up the memories also. Happiness. Grief. Realization. 

“Emma,” she says, digging her fingers into his arms almost painfully. "Emma, Charming. She's our Emma. She must be."

"I know," he whispers, sounding choked up even to himself. "She found us."

"That means Henry is also our grandson," she says and then laughs at the absurdity of it all. He joins her, laughing a little hopelessly as her head falls against his chest and then she is crying. He rocks her softly back and forth, feeling tears streak his own face as well.

Emma. Their Emma. 

She found them. 

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_The nursery is almost done now. Snow goes to watch it being furnished sometimes, or to watch Charming put yet another toy in. He can't seem to stop, wanting this child so much it radiates from him like sunlight from the sun._

_A boy, he thinks. A girl, she knows. He will still love their child above anything because he is Charming and that's how he loves. His beloved daughter, this child will be. Emma._

_That she knows. That is a certainty. What comes after, she doesn't know. There are so many possibilities. Happily ever after, perhaps. Now that Regina has let go of the Evil Queen, now that she and Charming have found each other and stayed found, now that they're expecting their first-born, now that Emma will be born and will be loved. Perhaps this is not the happy ending but the happy beginning._

_If they'll one day have a son also, she doesn't know – but if it happens, they'll love him too. That is a certainty. That she knows._

_Everything else only time will tell._

II

Present day

II

The boxes from Boston have arrived; everything Emma Swan owns wrapped in cardboard. Graham gives her a hand moving them into her room at Granny's (sneaking in a box of donuts as well) then leaves her to unpack. 

She doesn't even know where to start, so instead she lays down to watch the ceiling for a while and lets her mind run over all the facts of the two cases she's currently on. 

There is something going on in this seemingly quiet little town. She just needs to discover what. 

“Hey Emma!” Henry says happily, walking in without knocking and sitting down on her bed. As he surveys the room and the mess, he reminds her a little of a prince surveying a kingdom from his throne. Little royal Henry, just missing a crown.

“Come in,” she says sarcastically.

Henry looks unabashed. “Graham said you wanted to ask me something when I met him at the diner.”

“Yeah,” she says, sitting up. “Wait, do your parents know you're here?”

“Sent them a text I'd meet them here rather than the diner,” he says and she hopes he's right or she might be facing kidnapping charges and Graham would have to cuff her (and probably enjoy it). 

“Okay,” she agrees. “Henry, do you know a man called Jefferson?”

“No,” Henry says, looking up at her curiously. “Who's he?”

“He's the man who broke in last night. Henry, have you talked about the curse with anyone else?”

“Just Archie and you. And mom and dad a little.”

“No one else at all?”

“No,” he says definitely. She nods slowly. “Why are you asking?”

“Jefferson talked about the curse,” she admits and Henry looks surprised. “He kept calling me the savior.”

“You are the savior,” Henry says confidently, but he looks thoughtful too. “I will look in the book, maybe we can figure out who he is and why he knows.”

She bites back the urge to tell him his curse is all fantasy, and smiles at him instead. “You read the book then, see what you can find out. You'll be my research assistant.”

He nods happily, taking in the room again. Jumping off the bed, he starts looking around as if inspecting the lay of the land. 

“What's this?” he asks after a moment, looking into one particular box. She walks over to join him, recognizing the contents immediately. 

“All I got from my parents,” Emma says, keeping her voice as unemotional as possible. “A baby blanket with my name on it and a stuffed animal.” 

The baby blanket carries her name, the only real thing she knows about her parents apart from the fact that they abandoned her. They named her Emma. They cared enough for that at least. 

“Can I see?” Henry asks. “Please?”

That word again, still as powerful as ever. She picks up the baby blanket as there is a knock on the door. Henry bolts to answer it before she can even say anything, opening the door to David and Mary Margaret, the latter leaning on the former.

“Hey mom! Hey dad!”

For once his parents don't seem to actually pay him much attention. David puts his hands around Henry as Henry hugs him, but it seems a bit automatic. He's staring at her, and so is Mary Margaret. Or more precisely they're staring at the baby blanket in her hands. Mary Margaret clutches David's arm painfully by the looks of things and both seem a bit dazed. 

“I'm sorry, Henry just came over. I know I should ask before he spends time with me,” Emma says self-consciously. They are his parents, she reminds herself. Even if Henry is happy to spend time with her doesn't mean they are all thrilled about it. She should at least ask. 

Mary Margaret and David both lift their gazes to her and look at her with tears in their eyes, making Emma shift a little. They look at her as if she's some sort of vision to them and she has no idea what they could be seeing in her.

“We don't mind,” David manages. Mary Margaret nods fiercely. “Hello, Emma.”

“Hello, Emma,” Mary Margaret echoes breathlessly, happily.

Strange, Emma thinks. You'd think they hadn't seen her for decades or something.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two

II

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

II

Present day

II

It is the hardest thing - apart from putting her in the wardrobe in the first place – David has ever done, not walking over to Emma instantly and wrapping her in a hug and never letting go. He knows it is the same for Snow, he can feel it in how she grips his arm and looks, just looks at Emma. 

But they have agreed to try not to scare Emma off right from the start, to ease into this. There are so many logical reasons why, Emma not believing in the curse being a main one, but they all seem to pale now against an onslaught of emotions. 

This is their _daughter_. The baby blanket confirms it but even so, David would know. He can feel it and he can see it in the mixture of Snow and himself in Emma and he can know it, because Emma is here and the curse is weakening and he remembers now. 

“You guys all right?” Emma asks, looking a little freaked out as she puts the blanket away. Henry shifts a little next to him, so David pats his back as reassuringly as he can manage. Right. Time to try to not make her that think they are all crazy.

“Yeah, yeah,” he managed. “Just had a strange couple of days.”

“Amen to that,” Emma agrees. “We're done with the sheriffing stuff at your apartment, if you guys want to go back home.”

Snow looks at him and he knows what she is thinking, giving her a look back telling her just that.

“We might spend the night at Granny's,” he says, with as much forced casualness as he can manage. “Might give us a better night's sleep tonight.”

Emma nods, an explanation she can clearly believe. It's certainly a better one than the we-want-to-be-near-the-daughter-we-haven't-seen-for.28-years-and-who-is-the-same-age-as-us-and-whose-son-we-adopted-as-our-own explanation that is actually the real one.

Emma, he thinks longingly, balling his fists to keep from reaching for her. 

“Maybe you'd like to have dinner with us?” Snow says and he wonders if the underlying longing in her voice is as audible to everyone else as it is to him. Subtlety is clearly not a trait either Snow or himself possess and thus have been unable to pass it on to their family, to Emma and Henry. 

Emma looks at Henry, who smiles at her, and Snow looks at Emma's smile and takes a step forward. Parents and children, he thinks, feeling the ache in his chest. He steadies Snow with a hand and she looks up at him with an almost dazed expression before seeming to catch herself. She nods slightly, exhaling. 

“Yeah, sure,” Emma says, and if his forced casualness is as bad as his daughter's he thinks they may all be in serious trouble. “Meet you in an hour at the diner?”

An hour like a lifetime, David thinks, but nods. 

II

“No,” Belle says, and Gold stares at her. 

“No?”

“No. I am not going with you.”

“But Belle, you won't be safe here.”

“You say it's my house? That you've saved all my rent money? Give me the account details. I'll go somewhere else since I have the money for it. But I'm not going with you.”

Belle, he thinks sharply, painfully. She still has her arms folded as she looks at him, her eyes gleaming and her face is hard and uncompromising. 

“Why not?” he asks, holding out a hand. “Please, Belle.”

“No one decides my fate but me,” she says and despite himself, despite the heartbreak, despite his fear, he feels himself smile lovingly.

Yes. That's his Belle. 

II

Snow staggers against the wall the moment they enter their own rented room at Granny's, tears in her eyes. Even with a hand still around Henry, David draws her against his chest, breathing into her neck.

“Mom?” Henry asks, sounding worried. “Dad? Is something wrong?”

Snow makes a half-choked sob, putting a hand on Henry's head and stroking his hair softly. 

“Nothing we can't make right,” David says reassuringly and she draws a shuddering breath. He has to believe that. He has to make her believe it too, that they can build some sort of relationship with their daughter now that she has found them. 

“You're being weird,” Henry complains. Carefully, David keeps his grip on both his son-slash-grandson and his wife and moves them all onto the bed to sit down with Snow on one side of him and Henry on the other.

“I'm sorry, Henry,” Snow says softly. Her breath seems to have steadied a little though he imagines only by the force of her rather strong will. “It's been a strange few days.”

Henry nods slowly. “Does your leg hurt?”

“A little,” she admits and David thinks a lot of nasty thoughts about the bastard who kidnapped his wife, the bastard he intends to find. “Henry, I want you to know that whatever happens, your father and I, we love you very much.”

“We do,” David echoes, swallowing a lump in his throat. Henry believed in the curse before they remembered. He brought Emma here on that faith. Once they're a little less emotional there is Henry and his belief in the curse to consider. And Regina and what she knows and Rumpelstiltskin and what he wants and so many things, but right now David just wants to hold his wife and his son come grandson and wish he could hold Emma too. 

“Is this about Emma?” Henry asks. He looks at them both, a frown creasing his forehead. “You're still my mom and dad.”

“We'll always be your mom and dad,” David says. Parents and grandparents in one, it makes his head hurt a little but his heart swell. “But Emma is your mother too and Emma's...”

His breath catches. Our daughter, he thinks. Emma. Oh, Emma. 

“Family now too,” Snow finishes, lifting her gaze to him as Henry hugs her. She is crying, but her gaze holds so much determination he has to smile at it. Snow. Oh, Snow. 

“Yeah,” he manages, touching a tear from her cheek with his thumb before kissing her forehead and then the side of her face. “Emma is family too now.”

II

“What do you think you're doing?”

Regina has been waiting for that question for a while, so she mentally counts to three, then turns around and gives Mr. Gold the smile she's had ready for a while. 

“I know what I am doing,” she says brightly. He grips the cane a little, but his face remains impassive. Definitely rattled, she thinks. 

“Running for Mayor? Rattling Belle? Being unusually friendly to any Nolan that isn't Henry? Breaking into my office?”

Breaking into his office? Oh, Hook, the subtlety of a cannon, she thinks irritably, but tries to keep her face still. Gold must still see something because he tilts his head.

“Not you then, dearie. Shame. Would have been easier if it was you.”

“Why are you here, Rumpel?” she asks, crossing her legs and leaning back in the chair. His eyes watch her with a dark expression.

“You may know what you're doing, but I also see what you're doing. Watch yourself.”

With that, he walks off and she smiles at his retreating back. Well, well, well. A subtle threat he took the trouble to seek her out to deliver. How telling. A reminder too, that he is watching her.

Too bad all he's seen is what she wants him to see. He taught her that – give people a show, let them look and see what you want them to and then, then you can make them blind indeed. 

Rumpelstiltskin is still seeing the Evil Queen and it's going to blind him. 

II

There are days Ruby thinks Granny is a pain in the ass and there are days Ruby thinks Granny is a large pain in the ass. This is the latter. 

Work at the diner, work at the inn – no time for anything but work and it makes Ruby testy enough to want to bite something. If she had the money and the means she would be long gone from here. 

Of course, for once they actually have guests staying at the inn. First Emma Swan, then the Nolans for a night and then a hot stranger on a motorbike. And now, now there is this chick wanting a room too. 

“It's our last room,” she informs, holding out the key.

“Thanks. I'm Belle,” Belle says. Ruby vaguely recalls her from the Rabbit Hole. Barmaid, if she remembers correctly.

“Ruby,” Ruby says, as Belle takes the key. “I thought you had our own place.”

“It's complicated,” Belle says. Her eyes seem a little distant as if she's not here at all. “Do you ever want to just get away?” .

“How about always?” Ruby counters and their eyes meet in understanding.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three

II

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

II

Present day

II

Emma takes a deep breath before she steps into the diner, spotting what booth the Nolans have claimed easily, almost as if she's drawn to it. They don't notice her right away, giving her time to study them.

David and Mary Margaret have dressed up, as if it's an occasion. They're holding hands under the table, she can tell, their bodies pressed together as well. Henry is chatting happily across from them, and Emma's breath catches a little at that. 

"Hi," she says casually. David and Mary Margaret look up at once, both breaking into radiant smiles. David half rises as Emma slides into the booth next to Henry while Mary Margaret stretches out a hand then seems to rethink it and ball it a little instead. 

“Hey,” David says, sitting back down. 

“Anything you recommend from the menu?” Emma asks, giving it a quick scan. Somehow, it seems fitting for Storybrooke, a sort of quiet town style to it even if the prices seem frozen from decades ago. 

“Hamburger!” Henry says immediately, making both his parents look at him fondly. 

“I will try that then,” she says easily. Granny comes over at her signal, and David and Mary Margaret order the same, making it four hamburgers and fries. 

“Emma,” Mary Margaret says, making it sound strangely affectionate. “David and I would really like to get to know you.”

“You do know that just because you adopted Henry, you don't have to adopt me, right?” Emma jokes. David and Mary Margaret exchange an odd look she can't quite decipher. “I'm joking.”

“We're not,” David says gently. “Whatever you're willing to share, whenever. No pressure, just....”

He tails off, looking at her with a bright gaze. Mary Margaret smiles in a way that feels quite a lot like pressure, actually. It makes Emma feel oddly flattered and awkward at the same time, so she simply gives a brief smile. 

“I could tell you about Tallahassee, I suppose,” she says, and all three Nolans nod eagerly, so she launches into the story about her two-year stint there, not mentioning the reason she went. 

The hamburgers offer a short interruption, but turn out to be quite tasty. Henry pinches a few fries from everyone, earning a mild scolding from Mary Margaret. Emma just pinches them right back from him, David giving her a smile at that and offering his own. 

Eventually, they find themselves all eaten out, and leaving. David helps her with her coat and his hands lingers on her shoulders for just a second. If she wasn't 100% sure he was heads over heels for his wife, she would have wondered if he was making a pass. But no. Not him. 

She watches him help his wife too, taking Mary Margaret's hand as they step into the cold air. Henry walks between his parents and Emma as they head down the street, and looks mighty pleased with everything. 

It's hard not to smile at him, but she finds her smile fading as she throws a look at the horizon. There is a light there that shouldn't be, a light that isn't the last fading light of the sun. No. This is a fire.

The Mayor's house is on fire.

II

Regina can see the fire from her window, flames licking upwards and smoke spiraling towards the sky. The Mayor's house. Rumpelstiltskin's little manor.

Hmm.

His own doing or Hook's, she wonders briefly, then heads into the night. 

II

Emma sets off as if on instinct, and Snow finds herself admiring her daughter for a moment – heading into danger to see who needs help. So like her father, so like herself, and she meets Charming's gaze and nods.

Even with her injured leg she manages to keep up with him as he follows Emma who is barking into the phone to get the fire department here, Henry following them all. As they get closer, they can see that the upper part of the house is firmly on fire now and it's spreading.

“Gold, are you in there?” Emma calls. Only the flames answer. 

“His car is in the driveway,” David says, putting a hand on Henry's shoulder. “I think he might be home.”

“Right,” Emma says, looking at the house. “I'm going in there.”

“What?” David says, as Snow finds herself mouthing the words also. “No!”

“This isn't a discussion,” Emma says, already heading towards the door, dodging some falling debris on the way. Henry makes a move to follow, but Snow grabs onto him and holds on for dear life, Henry's life. 

“David,” Snow breathes, and he's already nodding and sprinting after their daughter. She would follow them too, leg be damned, but Henry is fighting in her grasp. She can't risk him. She can't. He's their son just as Emma is their daughter, she can't risk one for other. 

“Daaad!” Henry calls. He sounds as desperate as Snow feels. “Emma!”

“They'll be fine,” Snow whispers reassuringly, kissing his head. “They'll be fine.”

They have to be. 

An endless minute seems to pass, then Regina comes running up. She watches the fire with a look of calculation more than worry, at least until her gaze falls on Henry. Then it softens just a little. 

Regina hurt David just before they were cursed, Snow faintly remembers. But she didn't kill him and she's been kind to Henry all his years here. They trusted her once and it seemed to change her from Evil Queen to something else. Maybe... Maybe.

“Watch Henry.”

“What?” Regina says, blinking slightly.

“My husband is in there. Emma is in there. Please. Please watch Henry,” Snow pleads, and this time Regina nods. 

“No!” Henry protests, but Regina wraps her arms around him. It allows Snow to let go and run towards the burning building. She can hear Henry call after her, but the sound soon drowns in the massive roar of the flames as she heads into the house. 

“David? Emma?” she calls. The smoke makes her eyes water and her throat burn, but she staggers forward nevertheless. Forward, forward, fighting each step. Finally, she can make out two shapes dragging a third between them. David and Emma dragging Mr. Gold. 

She makes a half cry, biting back the pain to run over and help on Emma's side. Gold seems to be unconscious, looking so strangely human like this, especially to the part of her that is Snow and remembers Rumpelstiltskin. The one who cast this curse, the one who lost them 28 years with Emma. 

The three of them manage to stagger out onto the grass, finally hearing sirens in the distance. Behind them, the fire roars on and Snow feels the last part of her adrenaline fade and all the pain come back. Ow. Oh, _ow_. 

They all collapse on the grass, David easing Gold down and Snow pulling Emma into a hug that isn't resisted. A moment later she can feel David hug them both, breathing heavily as Henry and Regina come running over. 

“Mom! Dad! Emma!” Henry calls and then dives at them all, making it a combination of a group huge and a pile-on. 

“We're fine,” David says reassuringly, closing his eyes for a moment. She can imagine what he is imagining; losing Emma after just having found her. She is imagining the same, after all, and she digs her fingers into Emma's leather jacket a little. 

“Yeah, kid,” Emma says as well, coughing a little. “We're fine.”

“You all look like hell,” Regina says drily, hands on her hips even as her eyes are softening. It makes Snow laugh slightly, clutching her daughter that doesn't know she is the daughter a little closer as David leans his forehead against hers and puts a arm around Emma's shoulder. 

Beside them, Gold opens his eyes and smiles at the scene before him; it makes Snow's blood run a little cold.


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four

II 

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_Slowly, one by one, the leaves on the trees are starting to fall. The sun catches them as they fall, following them down to the patterns of light across the forest floor. It is fall. It will be winter soon._

_Charming isn't watching the leaves fall at all. He is watching Snow instead, a far more lovely sight. She has her head in his lap, her arms on her belly. She doesn’t need the sunlight to look luminescent, a glow about her that makes him smile just to look at her._

_She's carrying their child. It still makes his breath catch to think about it._

_Their child. He has no idea if it will have Snow's darker hair or his lighter or a mixture of both. He has no idea what color the eyes will be, what the nose will look like, what mixture of facial feature this kid will end up with._

_He has no idea how this child will look. But he can imagine. He can imagine a child with Snow's heart, with her bravery, with her compassion. Maybe even with something of his, maybe the faith in good he likes to have, maybe the protective tendencies Snow likes to tease him about, maybe things he can't see in himself until he sees them in his child._

_For the rest, he can't wait to meet this child._

II

Present day

II

Saving the Mayor from a fire is a very stupid reason to have to get a medical examination, Emma decides. Even if she inhaled a lot of smoke. Even if her throat hurts. It's stupid even if it's a medically sound thing to do. 

Dr. Whale is just doing his job, of course. But he's preventing her from going out to do hers. So she's being a terrible patient and knows it, eventually making Whale give up in despair, release her and go look at his other patients. 

She heads out into the hallway with renewed vigor. Right. That fire feels awfully well timed, possibly not accidental at all. Then there's Jefferson and the bastard who kidnapped Mary Margaret. For a first week on the job, it's some workload. 

“This used to be a quiet town, you know,” Graham says and Emma looks up at him. He's leaning against a wall, arms folded, and with something that might be fond amusement in his eyes.

“So people tell me,” Emma remarks. She folds her arms. “To me it looks like this town was just waiting to explode.”

“That's not all,” he goes on, giving her a stern look. “What have you done to the Nolans?”

“What do you mean?” she asks with a straight face, keeping that strange feeling she's gotten about them lately off her face.

“Charging into burning houses with you? David and Mary Margaret Nolan? Mary Margaret pestering me to check up on you? David refusing treatment, insisting you be looked at first? It's like they've turned from housecats to tigers after you arrived.”

“Maybe you just don't know your felines?” Emma suggests sassily, but his words still echo in her mind. They did seem a bit different when she first came, didn't they? 

“Emma!” a voice calls, and sure enough, there comes the tiger herself. Mary Margaret comes barreling down the hallway with only one target in mind and before Emma can even lower her hands, she's being wrapped in an enormous hug. 

Graham gives Emma a look and she has to fight to keep her face from showing him anything. She's not used to people caring about her. She's not used to it at all. It's a little disconcerting. It's just a whole lot more of something she doesn't even want to think about. 

“I'm fine,” she says and she can hear Mary Margaret let out a shuddering breath at that. 

“I know you are,” Mary Margaret says, releasing her from the hug and smiling at her. “I just had to see for myself.”

“How is David?” Emma asks. To deflect a bit of attention, sure, but she also finds she genuinely cares about the answer.

Mary Margaret smiles lovingly. “Dr. Whale is with him and Henry now. Henry is fine, David just thought it best to take him with since I went looking for you. I expect they'll be here shortly.”

“They are,” Dr. Whale says, and Emma sees that the doctor is coming down the hallway and is being trailed by David and Henry. “I dare say Mr. Nolan is about as bad a patient as you, Ms. Swan. In any case, I expect to see you both tomorrow for a check-up.”

Henry walks over to hug her and Emma accepts it without thinking, leaning down and putting her arms around him as if by instinct. David and Mary Margaret watch them with a slightly odd expression and their hands clasped, she notices.

“I'm fine, kid,” Emma says reassuringly. 

“You were a hero,” Henry says against her . "Dad too. I knew you were the savior."

Emma doesn't comment on that, doesn't dare comment on that. Instead she looks at Dr. Whale. “Mr. Gold, how is he?”

“He inhaled a lot more smoke than you. We're keeping him here for at least a week, but I think he will make a full recovery. You saved his life, Ms. Swan and Mr. and Mrs. Nolan. He'll owe you one.”

“Two,” Emma corrects automatically, and wonders why the thought of Mr. Gold owing her favors would make David and Mary Margaret look so unhappy.

II

He could have died, Gold reflects coldly. The thought both terrifies and angers him, but he chooses to focus on the anger. 

Someone tried to kill him. Not Regina, no. Not as she is now. Perhaps once the Evil Queen would have set a fire to kill him and not care who else got burned. Not now though. No. This was someone else, someone rash and prone to dramatics.

He can think of a few that would fit. Problem is, they're all meant to be dead or in another world. Of course, that is never any guarantee. 

“I heard there was a fire at your house,” Belle says and he looks up sharply so see her standing in the doorway. She looks hesitant and embarrassed to be here and yet here she is. 

“Yes,” he manages. His throat burns. 

“Maybe you should have been worried about yourself rather than me,” she comments, but he shakes his head.

“Belle...”

He can't manage more than her name; his throat burning with it. But her name in itself is an endearment, a declaration of love. He even altered the curse to make sure she kept it, not able to bear seeing her under another name.

(He still ripped her heart out, he reminds himself and remembers the expression on her face as he did.)

“I'm glad you're not dead,” Belle simply says and leaves.

II

Emma watches the Nolans sleep in the waiting room, Mary Margaret's head in David's lap and Henry sleeping against Mary Margaret. They're waiting for her, she knows. They won't leave the hospital until she does, and she is still waiting on Graham. 

They really have adopted her, she thinks. She might have joked about it, but they actually have. It's strange to think she's only known them a few days. It feels much longer. 

“Whale will let us talk to Gold tomorrow,” Graham says, coming up behind her. “There is nothing more you can do here tonight. Get some sleep.”

“Is that an order?”

“If it was, would you tell me off for it?”

“Yes.”

“Then it's a politely worded request. Get some sleep. Please.”

“Only for you,” she says, patting his shoulder. He looks at her hand there oddly for a moment, making her feel strangely self-conscious about touching him. With a small nod she walks past him and heads into the waiting room. 

David stirs first, looking up at her with clear blue eyes. “Emma?”

“We can head back to Granny's for the night,” she says softly. “Get some sleep. I can't believe you waited. You must be exhausted.”

David smiles, a strangely sad smile as he puts a hand on Mary Margaret's head. “Trust me, Emma. Mary Margaret and I would have waited a long time for you.”

It feels like what he's saying has more meaning than she's catching on to, but she still nods. It's too sincere not to nod at. This is the man who went into a burning house with her, after all. 

Mary Margaret stirs now as well, blinking up at her. Immediately she smiles, holding out a hand that Emma very hesitantly takes. 

“Let's get some sleep,” Emma suggests and thinks of a soft, soft bed to sink into.


	26. Chapter Twenty-Five

II

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

II

Present day

II

Emma faceplants into the bed, too tired to pay much attention to anything. She can't even be bothered to take her clothes off, so she simply falls asleep on top of the covers while still fully dressed. 

She doesn't even notice the box that has been rifled through; a stuffed animal missing from its contents. 

II

David almost staggers to the bed pretty much the moment he's tucked Henry in, leaving most of his clothes just on the floor as he discards them. Mary Margaret has already crawled in under the blankets and has closed her eyes, with her lashes dark against her pale skin. 

She still reaches for him the moment he crawls in under the blankets and puts her hands around his waist as he presses himself against her. She tucks her head underneath his chin and lets out a slow, shuddering breath.

In the bed across the room Henry is already sleeping, making noises quite akin to snoring. It's a comforting sound. One he used to walk into Henry's room sometimes to listen to, driven by some vague fear his son would be gone. Now he knows exactly what that fear was, of course. 

He should sleep. His body hurts, his head hurts from needing sleep and yet he can't quite make himself fall asleep right away. Too much to think about: Emma, Henry, Snow, what Rumpelstiltskin might be up to, how to get this curse broken and their friends to remember, that the bastard who kidnapped Snow is still out there and what might have happened to their land after the curse. 

Snow must suffer from the same, because she moves a little against him. He presses a kiss to her head and she lifts her head to look at him. 

“Charming?” she whispers. 

“Yeah?”

“She's in the next room.”

“I know,” he breathes. It still amazes him to think that, that their daughter has returned to them and is their age and sleeping a room away from them with no idea who they are. 

“I want to tell her.”

“I know. You know we can't yet. She'll think we're crazy. _We_ thought it was crazy.”

“Henry didn't,” Snow says, all the love in the world in her voice. He dips his head a little and rubs his nose against hers, and then kisses her very softly. She sighs into it and her fingers weave through the short hairs at the back of his neck. 

He pulls back just an inch, and they fall asleep like that; her hand on his neck and lips just barely apart.

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_One doesn't have to have suffered a sleeping curse to know nightmares about regrets. Oh no. Regina knows them well and they always used to be centered around her biggest regret: Daniel's death._

_Again and again she would dream about his heart being ripped out and crushed before her. Again and again she would wake and think only of how to cause Snow White death or the same pain._

_(Never her mother though. Never that, as if she dared not.)_

_Now though, after taking the pardon and giving up her vengeance, she dreams of other things too. The look in her father's eyes as he watched her become the Evil Queen. The look on Snow's face biting into the apple. Her own question to Rumpelstiltskin about using magic: “And I won't become like her?”_

_(But she did; she is starting to see that now from the look in her father's eyes. She did become that, but that doesn't mean she has to remain so.)_

_Something's changing in her mind and the nightmares are reflecting it._

_New regrets; new Regina._

II

Present day

II

Most people would be sleeping now, but Regina is not. Instead she walks the darkened streets of Storybrooke, watching the town as she walks through. It's asleep now, as it should be, 28 years of sleeping. 

Such a quiet little town. Or rather the illusion of a quiet little town. An illusion now faltering a little since Emma Swan's arrival. An illusion that will falter even more.

Yes. Tonight, with Gold in hospital and unable to stop her is the opportune time so she's taking it. 

She walks out of the city and towards the forest, carrying a torchlight with one hand while keeping the other hand firmly on the object in her pocket. Emma Swan will have to forgive her for taking the stuffed animal; it wasn't truly from Emma's parents in any case. No. It was from Regina and its only value is what it holds inside. 

She even hurt Snow's Charming to get it to this world; she feels something that might be even be regret at it. But she also chose not to kill him, something the Evil Queen would never do. That counts for something. 

The light of her torch finally lands on the well. The one said to bring back lost things. Yes. They all know that in this town, almost as if they're meant to know it. As if it's been set up for a purpose much like this. 

Carefully, she takes a knife and cuts the stuffed animal open. The purple of the potion glitters in the torchlight. Magic. Magic from true love, Snow and Charming's true love. It took her many tries to complete it. It is a good thing she had occasional access to them from their visits now and then, as she needed many strands of their hair in the end. 

She eases the potion out, taking the last step towards the well and holding the potion over it. She hesitates for a moment, remembering her own question to Rumpelstiltskin so long ago, a lifetime and a curse ago: _“And I won't become like her?”_

And his reply: _“That, dearie – is entirely up to you.”_

It wasn't then. No, not truly. She has realized that now, started to see how he steered her just as her mother tried to steer her also. But this time – this time it will be up to her. She's going to make sure of that. 

Everyone deserves a choice. 

She lets go of the potion; it falls and falls.

II

In the dark, Maleficent opens an eye and hisses, small flames licking across her teeth as she breathes. 

She can feel it coming, feel it start rolling across the land. 

Yes. _Yes._

Finally a reason to wake up. 

II

Snow wakes abruptly with an uneasy feeling. For a moment she isn't even sure where she is except that it is not home, not their bed. But David is there, with his arms around her and his breath mingling with hers. 

Right. Granny's. They're staying the night to stay near Emma as much as anything else. Emma is here, David is here and Henry is here. Everything is fine. She has her family safe. 

Just a nightmare probably, giving her this uneasy feeling. Just a nightmare.

But no, she realizes. She can feel a faint vibration in the bed, almost as if a small earthquake is happening. But this is Maine, surely that can't be.

“David?” she whispers urgently. His eyes open slightly and he looks at her through lowered eyelids for a moment, then seems to force his eyes to open properly and focus on her. 

“What?” he says, his voice still thick with sleep. 

“Something is happening.”

He looks confused and half-asleep still, but as she rises from the bed he takes her hand and follows her. Together they walk over to the window and look out.

It is dark outside of course, but it's a wrong sort of dark. Something is moving in it, something almost like a cloud. It is moving too fast to be coming with the wind and it's coming right at them too.

“What is that?” Henry says beside her; he's woken up also and joined them at the window and she didn't even hear him. Snow puts her free arm around him, pressing him close as if that will protect him. David steps closer to her, squeezing her hand as if to reassure her. 

“I don't know, Henry,” she says. A truth, but she doesn't add what she also thinks is fairly certain: that it's something bad. 

The windows rattle. David embraces them both, shielding them with his body as if that is any help at all. 

It hits. 

II

Gold wakes with a sharp breath, feeling the town changing around him. No. No no no. Not yet. The curse isn't broken yet. What this will do with the curse still in effect he doesn't know, but it is not what he planned. It is not the future he thought he had puzzled out.

No. _No._

But he can't stop it now, it's too late to stop it.

Magic is coming; magic is here.


	27. Chapter Twenty-Six

II

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

II

Present day

II

His parents are being weird, Henry decides. _Again._

After that strange cloud last night they both insisted he stay inside and went out to look. When they found nothing outside and Storybrooke just looking normal, they still told him off for following them. He could hear them whispering together intently in bed after they went back inside so clearly they fell asleep very late and then they seemed almost upset that Emma had woken up before them and had already gone to work. 

Weird. 

He eats his breakfast as slowly as he can manage without looking like he's actively stalling for time, watching mom and dad look tired and in a hurry at the same time. 

“Henry, you should finish up. Your school bus will be here any minute,” mom says, giving him a faint encouraging smile. 

“I don't want to go to school,” he replies and dad leans forward across the table to look him firmly in the eye.

“I know, Henry. But your mom and I, we have to do some things today.”

“I could help!” Henry insists. Mom and dad both smile, mom putting a hand on dad's back and rubbing lightly. 

“You've already helped more than you know,” mom says and her eyes seem almost teary for a moment. 

Weird. Definitely. As they scoot out of the booth and head out of the diner, Henry tries to put into words what is weird. It's something about them. Mom and dad. They've always been mom and dad, but now they almost seem like more. It's as if they've grown but not in size exactly. 

Wait. Wait, wait, wait. A suspicion arises in him, not quite put into words yet. The curse. Mom and dad. Weird. Weird since Emma came. 

“Have a good day at school, sweetheart,” mom says softly and kisses his head while dad squeezes his shoulder and leads him towards the bus. He walks on board almost automatically, then finds the nearest window seat and sits down to watch his parents. They're waving at him with their free hands, holdings hands with the other. Just as the bus starts pulling away, he sees his dad turn to his mom and say something. 

She nods, they walk off hand in hand and the bus drives off and Henry, Henry is beginning to think his mom and dad are not being weird today. He's thinking they have simply been weird for ten years and now they're nearing their normal. 

II

Gold opens his eyes to see he has visitors first thing in the morning and it's in fact not Emma Swan, but Emma Swan's parents. 

He can see the change in them right away. Their shoulders are set differently, their eyes hold a different confidence. Only the hand in hand is quite like Mary Margaret and David, but even then their hands seem to be clasped tighter than usual. 

“Prince Charming and Snow White, I presume,” Gold says. They just look at him and he almost has to chuckle. Funny. He never thought he would be happy to see Snow and Charming again, but he actually is. 

“What did you do?” Snow asks. 

“It wasn't me,” Gold says simply. “I assume you are referring to the little magic trick last night? I was here, dearie. Ask Dr. Whale. He's quite the monster to his patients.”

“What was it?” Charming asks impatiently. 

“Magic.”

“Magic?” Snow echoes. She looks intently at him, clearly trying to read him. 

“Magic,” Gold confirms, holding his hand out. For a moment a flame flickers in his palm and they both stare at it. Then it is gone. “Someone brought magic to this town and it wasn't me. Care to wager who it might have been?”

Snow and her prince exchange a glance that clearly tell Gold they have a very good bet who that would have been. Then they both turn their gazes on him again,determination radiating from them. 

“What do you want with Emma?” Snow says, possessive love lacing every word.

“Same as you. To break the curse.”

“How?” Charming interjects. 

“That is a very good question, Prince Charming. Either she finds a way to break the curse – or the curse breaks when she dies.”

Snow draws in a sharp breath while Charming's jaw sets and they both look ready to murder him on the spot. For their child of course. He can't say he would blame them. He's done far, far worse for his child. 

“She's not dying,” Charming says and Snow nods furiously. 

“Then I suggest you two get working on how she might break this curse,” Gold suggests lightly, painfully lightly as he sees the raw grief on their faces when they contemplate losing her again. He knows what it feels like. Oh yes. He knows.

“Why?” Snow asks, leaning into her husband for a moment as if to draw from his strength. They always did become stronger together. 

“I have my reasons. Maybe one day you will understand them,” Gold answers seriously, nothing light in his voice this time. 

“You took 28 years from us,” Charming says bitterly. “Can you understand that?”

“I kept you and your beloved Snow together. I gave you Henry,” Gold says. “Do you think Regina would have done as much if she had cast the curse?”

“Maybe not,” Snow says, closing her eyes a moment as if imagining it. “But that still doesn't excuse that you cast it.”

“No, it doesn't,” he agrees, watching their eyes widen in surprise at his honesty. “Whatever you may think of me, I never desired your unhappiness. Magic always comes with a price.”

“And we had to pay it?” Charming says, the tone of his voice like a sword; cutting.

“So did I,” Gold simply says. He closes his eyes and thinking of Belle, Bae and not enough heart.

When he opens his eyes again, Snow and Charming have left and the humming of hospital machines telling him he's still alive is his only company.

II

There is an insistent knock on the door that Regina ignores, focusing instead on the cup before her. She can feel the magic in the room, in this town, but she can't quite form it how she wants.

The cup doesn't move. 

Magic must be different in this world. She might have brought it here, but it doesn't seem to follow the same rules. Perhaps her mother's spellbook would help, but she doesn't have access to that right now.

The door bursts open and she sighs. Without hurrying or looking disturbed, she simply turns her chair to greet her visitors. 

“Regina,” Mary Margaret says, but when Regina looks up, she changes her mind. No. Not Mary Margaret. David with her, but more than David now. Charming. 

“Snow,” she replies. “How courteous of you to knock first.”

Charming rolls his eyes slightly. He would have been the one to just walk in when the knocks went unanswered, she just knows. He was never one for patience. 

“Heard you called in sick today at work,” Snow goes on.

“So did you, I assume,” Regina counters. “Since you're here rather than doing your job.”

“Cut the crap, Regina,” Charming says firmly. “What did you do last night?”

“I don't have to answer to you,” she says and he looks ready to snap back in reply when Snow simply puts a hand on his. He calms immediately, giving his wife a light nod. 

“I brought magic here,” Regina says before either of them can say anything. She doesn't have to answer, but she can still choose to. Charming looks suspicious while Snow looks more conflicted. “Whatever you may think of me, I do not seek your unhappiness or vengeance any longer. I did not bring magic here for that.”

“You hurt David,” Snow says, her eyes flashing. “I found him wounded just before the curse hit. By your hand, Regina.”

“Yes,” Regina admits easily, looking at Charming. He meets her gaze without hesitation. “I am sorry for that.”

It is the first time she's offered an apology of any kind to them, she knows, and Snow's lips part a little while Charming just looks curiously at her. 

“I needed Emma to bring something with her to this world,” Regina goes on. She folds her arms. “The potion I used to bring magic here. I could have killed your true love in that nursery, Snow. Instead I merely did what I had to.”

Charming moves his gaze to Snow, silently letting her decide how to steer the conversation from here. He may not ever fully forgive Regina for what she did to Snow, she knows, but he does not hold such grudges for himself. 

“I wish I could trust you,” Snow says honestly, and Regina can almost feel the need and want to do so radiate from her step-daughter. In so many ways, she's still so young, Snow White. 

“Rumpelstiltskin brought us all here,” Regina says, standing up now. “He trapped us. This is his game and he dictated the rules. I am merely changing them. He can be trapped too. He can be bound.”

Snow closes her eyes, then opens them again with a gaze of steel. “Whatever you're up to, Regina – if you hurt my family ever again...”

The rest of the threat goes unspoken, perhaps because Snow herself isn't quite sure what she'll do. Without another word, Snow simply turns and leaves. Charming gives Regina one last look, a silent warning in that but without any real venom, and follows his wife out.

So. Snow and Charming have their memories back, Regina concludes. Must be Emma's doing or connected to her. This whole curse is, after all. It's all about Emma Swan. She's the key.

Maybe to magic too, Regina thinks – and smiles.


	28. Chapter Twenty-Seven

II

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

II

Present day

II

The Mayor's manor isn't completely burned to the ground, but it has suffered quite a bit of damage, Emma observes in the cold harsh light of day. People passing by are giving it a long look as they walk, almost as if they can't believe it.

Emma is giving the people walking past a long look out of the corner of her eye, keeping an eye out for any suspicious reactions or behavior. She does see one guy smile faintly, but he's gone before she can give him a further look. 

“This fire was set,” Emma says as Graham walks over to her from the fire chief he's been talking to.

“While there are signs, they don't want to confirm anything while...”

“It was set,” Emma says again. She can feel it in her gut and her gut doesn't lead her astray (except once and that still brought Henry into the world).

Graham nods. “Any ideas?”

“Doesn't half this town dislike him?”

“The half who doesn't fear him,” Graham says, an undertone to it she can't quite catch. “Regina challenging him in the upcoming mayoral election was quite the shock.”

“Maybe she'll win, then,” Emma suggests, tilting her head to regard what remains of the Mayor's manor again. Regina? Hmm. “Some town you have, Sheriff. You got a feared Mayor, a kidnapper, a mad, hat-obsessed potential kidnapper and an arsonist. How you're not the tourist destination of Maine I have no idea.”

Graham chuckles, a strangely endearing sound. “You underestimate us, Deputy. We have plenty of attractions.”

“If you say so,” Emma says, one attraction at least coming to mind in a very indecent way. “Shall we see what Gold has to tell us about this? I have this strange feeling he saw nothing and heard nothing and will be very unhelpful.”

II

They've barely walked inside the door to their home – or rather, David and Mary Margaret's home – before Snow turns and puts her head against Charming's chest. He eases the door shut behind them with one hand as he holds her close with the other.

They stand still like that for a few moments, just breathing and feeling each other. There is too much around them – Regina bringing magic, the curse, Emma, Henry, all their friends not having their true memories – but here it can be just them, just for a little while. 

They've confronted Regina and Rumpelstiltskin, Emma is at work, Henry is at school and now, now they can have a moment to breathe. 

“Charming,” she whispers tenderly and he closes his eyes to the sound of the caress in her voice. Her hands go around his neck and he feels her lips brush his, tenderly at first then tugging more insistently. 

He lowers his hands to her waist as she tip-toes to reach, scraping her teeth across his lower lip. 

“Snow,” he moans, lifting her up as she deepens the kiss and her tongue brushes his. She locks her legs around his waist and he begins a slow undignified walk towards their bedroom while making out with his wife. 

His wife twice over, in fact. In this world and their world. He may never forgive Rumpelstiltskin for what has been taken from them – 28 years with Emma, 28 years with her parents for Emma – but 28 years without Snow too fills him with a sort of cold dread. What sort of man would he be without her? 

“I love you,” he mouths into the kiss and she sighs, kissing him a little sloppily as he eases her down on the bed and follows himself. For a moment he pauses, perched above her with one hand on either side of her. She arches up against him, cupping his head in her hands as she watches him intently. 

What she sees, he isn't sure, but it makes her kiss him aggressively and pull him down flush against her body. He meets the kiss with equal fervor, feeling his breath grow more rapid and his lips feel heavy against hers. Finally, he pulls away, standing up to discard his shoes, his shirt and his pants. Snow watches him through lowered eyelids, reaching up to run her hands across his chest. 

He sits down on the edge of the bed as she stands up, scooting off the bed to remove her own clothes. He watches and caresses her skin with his gaze as more and more of it becomes exposed. 

When she is finished, she sighs as he pulls her to him. Their lips meet, their hands roam skin and they fall backwards onto the bed. He can feel the need in her as it's matched by his own. In a strange way, it's been 28 years since they last slept together, after all. David and Mary Margaret slept together often, of course, but that wasn't fully them. This is. 

This is Snow and he kisses every inch of her skin he can reach, flipping her around beneath him to get access to even more. Her lips part soundlessly as he works his fingers and his mouth on her and she is beautiful, so beautiful because she's Snow.

She seems to see something beautiful in him too as he lifts his head to look at her again, her gaze filled with fondness and love and desire and something akin to grief all mingled together. They might have lost 28 years with Emma, but they've lost 28 years together as Snow and Charming too, he knows and feels. 

So he kisses her again; kisses her as he slides into her and it's Snow and Charming and sex again, 28 years waiting.  
  
II

_FTL, the past_

II

_Her mother never got to tell her about the marriage bed, Snow thinks. If she had lived, maybe Queen Eva would have pulled her daughter aside the night before the wedding. How she would have described it, Snow doesn't know. Delicately, probably._

_Yet there seems to be no words that fully capture what this feels like, Charming and Snow, skin to skin and lips to lips with their bodies joined. So many sensations, so many emotions and so much of him. Charming. Her Charming and now she owns him in yet another way. Bodily._

_His heart she already had, but she can feel it now as well, feel it in every caress, every brush of his lips, every inch of his skin touching hers. He loves her as she loves him, he owns her as she owns him, Snow and Charming ever after._

_This is her marriage bed, this is her husband and she can't wait to spend every night in it for decades to come._

II

Present day

II

Mayor Gold looks rather different this morning, Emma finds. For a guy who she dragged out of a fire, he looks well enough to be out of bed. Almost a magical improvement from last night, according to Dr. Whale. 

“So you can't remember anything from last night,” Graham sums up, giving Emma a gaze that tells her she might have been right in her prediction, but he's not going to give her the victory just yet.

“Believe me, Sheriff. If I knew who was responsible for the fire last night I would ensure that person saw justice.”

“Yours or ours?” Emma asks pointedly and Gold merely looks at her with a faint smile. 

“I believe I owe you my life,” he says and Emma merely shrugs a little. “You and the Nolans. They are quite a loving little family, don't you agree?”

“You arranged the adoption of Henry for them,” she says. She can feel Graham give her a curious look. “Why?”

“I thought they would make good parents for him,” Gold says and she can feel there is more to what he's saying but she can't quite get the shape of what it is. 

“That's not all,” she says sharply. “What aren't you telling me?”

“Is that the deputy asking?”

“No. That's Emma Swan asking. ”

Gold smiles. “I am sorry I cannot be of further help with your inquiries, sheriff and deputy. As for the questions of Miss Swan, maybe the reasons for my actions will become abundantly clear without me having to answer a thing. Good day.”

Emma gives him a pointed look before walking out just slowly enough that it doesn't look like he can just order her out and she'll following it. Graham is right behind her, putting a hand on her arm the moment they're out in the hallway.

“What was that about?”

“A lot of things in this town seem to come back to him,” Emma says slowly. “Including my son. I don't like it.”

“You care about Henry, don't you?” Graham observes and she looks down at her arm to see that his hand is softly stroking her. He doesn't even seem aware he's doing it, so she doesn't comment. 

“He's a good kid,” she says roughly, stepping away from Graham and continuing down the hallway. She can feel his gaze on her back for a moment as she walks, then he hurries to catch up to her. “You owe me a beer, by the way. Gold was just as unhelpful as I predicted.”

“Name your brand and bar,” he says simply; she wonders if Storybrooke has much selection of either. 

Gold, she thinks as they walk. Why does everything come back to Gold, even parts of her life? Even Henry?

Somehow, she's quite sure she won't like the answer.


	29. Chapter Twenty-Eight

II

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

II

Present day

II

Granny's diner. Rather the unofficial hotspot of Storybrooke, and what that says about Storybrooke Regina isn't sure – only that it may not be flattering. Still, if you want to meet someone it is the place to be, and she has just spotted the one she is looking to meet.

"Deputy Swan," she says and Emma looks up from her coffee and her sheriff standing next to her. "I see you have come out of your fiery heroics unharmed."

"Yeah," Emma says without elaborating.

"I trust the Nolans are fine too?"

"Yeah," Emma says again, but with more emotion this time. Interesting. Snow and Charming remember now, so they must have figured out this Emma is their Emma. They've clearly not told her yet, but Emma is still developing some sort of affection for them.

Gold must want that. He may not have set the fire himself, but she is fairly certain he arranged Mary Margaret's abduction. The timing is awfully convenient if not. Emma Swan must stay to break the curse and Rumpelstiltskin would do anything to ensure that.

It makes her wonder what else he'll do to get the curse broken.

"Was there something you wanted, Regina?" Graham cuts in. The Huntsman. Always so protective of his pack.

"Merely making polite conversation," Regina replies and Emma scoffs a little. "But now that you mention it, Sidney is arranging the first of several debates at the town hall between me and Mr. Gold for the upcoming election. Given the recent string of violent events, perhaps you can have a talk with him about security."

Graham nods, Emma takes a sip of her coffee, and Regina puts her hand on Emma's shoulder as if to say thanks.

The touch sparks, almost like electricity.

_Magic._

She can feel it stir in Emma and then stir in her. Yes. There is magic in the savior just as she suspected and for a moment, Regina feels a little dizzy at the familiar sensation of power coming from magic.

"What was that?" Emma says, sounding unnerved. Regina removes her hand as Emma stares at her. She must have felt something too. Magic in the savior. Interesting. Does Rumpelstiltskin even know?

"What was what?" Regina simply asks and walks out.

II

Wrapped in blankets and half-way wrapped in Snow as well, David stares up at the ceiling and tries to think. It is made slightly harder by the naked body next to his own, as despite having had two rounds between the sheets already, he still feels the all too familiar need and want she sparks in him.

"We have to do something," Snow says. He tilts his head slightly to look at her, her face resting on his shoulder with her legs across the lower half of his body. Her fingers are moving slowly and leisurely against his chest, pausing now and then over his heart.

"Yeah," he agrees. "We have to figure out how this curse can be broken so Emma can do it safely."

"Do you think Regina will help us?"

He moves his hand up her back a little, trying to find the right answer and coming up short. "I don't know."

"You think she's turned to evil again?"

"No," he says, thinking of the slow change in Regina they all saw. "I'm just not sure if she's turned entirely to good. I don't think she actively means us harm anymore. But she brought magic here. I am not sure we can trust her."

"And we can't trust Rumpelstiltskin," Snow says. She closes her eyes and he finds himself wishing he could carry it all for her, all the concern and fear and sense of loss.

"There is someone we can trust," he says intently, putting his free hand on her cheek. She opens her eyes to look at him. " _Emma_. We can trust Emma."

"Emma," Snow repeats, her eyes brightening at the name.

"Have faith in her, Snow. She's your daughter."

"And yours," she counters softly and kisses him. He leans into it, drawing strength from her words.

Emma. Yes. His daughter too and he feels it so much it hurts.

II

"I'm sorry, is this the sheriff's station?"

Emma looks up, noticing the stranger standing just inside the door. Male, leather jacket, dark, with stubble to write home about and a smile that is meant to be winning.

"If not, you would be breaking and entering," she points out. "What can I do for you, Mr...?"

"Mysterious stranger," the man says cheekily. "Just wanted you to know that I am stopping by your little town. So many people seemed to find my arrival strange that I thought I'd better register it with the proper authorities."

Proper and authority, Emma thinks. Hardly.

"The sheriff is out, but I will be sure to pass on the message, Mr. Mysterious Stranger," she says, turning her gaze back down on the witness statements. People in this town seem far too unobservant, hardly able to keep one day from another. Very peculiar.

"Thank you, Emma Swan," the man says and before she can ask him how the hell he knows her name, he's out the door.

Great. Just what she needed. Another mystery.

II

"That was awfully dumb of you, _Hook_."

The voice is familiar, too familiar, and Killian bolts from his bed and reaches for his sword. Instead, finds himself slammed up against the wall. By magic, magic keeping him from moving as he struggles against it.

But this is a land without magic, a land he should be able to kill the crocodile in. He set the fire yesterday and Rumpelstiltskin wasn't able to use magic to escape and had to be saved.

What has changed?

"Don't worry, magic only works here in Storybrooke," Regina says and steps out of the shadow. "The curse is still intact, so there is only magic in this town."

"You brought magic here," he concludes. He can see it in her eyes. "I am only after the crocodile. I mean the rest no harm."

"Yet you recklessness in setting fire to his house could have cost the lives of Emma Swan as well as the Nolans," Regina says, her voice like steel.

"You... Care about them?" he suggests.

She ignores the question – whether because she rather not answer or because she doesn't know the answer, he can't say – and moves closer instead, looking at him with dark eyes.

"You are too reckless," she says. "You risk far too much to kill him, risks I am unwilling to let you take."

"I will kill him," he says and she just smiles.

"There is magic here now, so you cannot touch Rumpelstiltskin while the curse is active. When it is broken, he may leave this town. In fact, I am certain he means to. You may have your chance yet. But until then, Hook..."

"What?"

"Stay below deck," she says and releases him. He falls face first onto the floor, groaning at the impact.

When he looks up, Regina has walked out. Not his ally after all then, but not quite his enemy either. Her own team, it seems, and clearly the Nolans (whoever they are) and Emma Swan are under her protection somehow.

He pulls himself up, sitting back on the bed with a frown. Magic is here. That complicates matters. If he can't hurt Rumpelstiltskin directly, then he will have to find another way.

Who was it Smee mentioned his boss had been so concerned about lately? Some woman, a name promising beauty. Oh yes.

_Belle._

II

Gold has to listen to five boring lectures from Dr. Whale about the risk of smoke inhalation – of course, Whale was never one to believe in magic as healing even when he wasn't cursed – before finally he is allowed to be released from hospital at his own risk and walk out.

Sidney is there to take a picture as he walks outside, the man looking so excited it's practically radiating from him. The Storybrooke Mirror has had more to cover the last week than in nearly three decades, and Sidney looks ready to kiss whoever is to thank for it.

(Good thing he doesn't know it's Emma Swan – she'd probably break his nose if he tried to kiss her and then Charming definitely would upon finding out.)

Gold stands outside for a moment, breathing in the air and the magic. It's been 28 years without it and having it returned feels like life renewed. Maybe he should thank Regina after all, as long as this hasn't interrupted his other plans.

That also means his true love potion is still intact, is still inside...

The ground shakes, almost as if there is a minor earthquake, emanating from underneath the library. There is a roar too, almost drowned by the ground but he can still hear it. A dragon's roar and a dragon stirring. Ah yes. Magic here now. Of course.

Maleficent, he thinks. She's awake.

And she's angry.


	30. Chapter Twenty-Nine

II

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

II

Present day

II

David is kissing her lazily, slow lingering touches of lips while his hand cups her cheek and he must feel how her skin is still burning from what he's done to her. (Again. And again.) She can feel his lips curve into a smile and she knows whatever they're facing, she feels better knowing she'll face it with him.

As he does, she knows from just looking at him.

And Emma, they have Emma back too. Not fully, not yet, but she can see her daughter responding to them and to Henry and...

The tremor makes Charming freeze mid-kiss and she mid-thought and they both remain perfectly still until a second tremor comes.

"What the hell?" Charming murmurs, lifting himself off her and gazing out the window. "Earthquake?"

"In Maine?" Snow says, pushing herself up as well to look out with him. No cloud this time at least. Just a faint sound that might be a roar. "Charming..."

"I heard," he says, meeting her gaze and mirroring the same determination. "Let's find out what's happening."

II

Emma feels the tremor just as she takes the doughnut Graham is offering. It makes her drop it, turning sharply to stare out the window. A second comes, stronger than the first.

"What the hell?" she murmurs, jumping up and running out of the station. Graham follows her, looking as baffled as she feels. "Earthquake?"

"That would be a first for this town," he says. "But we've had a lot of firsts since you came."

"You make it sound like I've cursed this town," she mutters, looking around. It's quiet now, and people outside are staring at the ground as if waiting. Nothing happens and slowly, people start moving again.

"Maybe it was nothing," Graham says. He meets her gaze and she wonders who taught him to be so optimistic. Not her, that's for sure.

"No," she says darkly. This town has made her stop believing in coincidences. "That was something. Underground explosion, maybe?"

He seems to think. "Well, we do have some mines."

"Let's check the mines then," she suggests and he nods.

II

Regina isn't entirely surprised when there is a knock on her door. She is however, entirely surprised when she sees who is there.

"My friend," Maleficent says, all human for the occasion. She smiles, leaning on her staff, but her eyes are dark and angry. "It's been far too long."

"Maleficent," Regina says. "You're human?"

"There is magic in this town now. It allowed me to take human form. Now, tell me about Rumpelstiltskin and how he intends to break this curse."

It may not have been long enough, Regina considers, and hesitantly lets her friend in.

II

The Mayor's office will have to suffice as for home while his manor is still in smoky ruins, and so Gold takes his place behind the desk there and just waits for the first visitor. They'll be coming. These days, there is always someone coming.

Sure enough, Snow and Charming soon come barging in (without knocking, of course), looking dressed in a hurry and with rather telling bed hair still. True love, how very true to form.

"What was that?" Charming asks without any greeting or further explanation.

"That would be your old friend the dragon," Gold replies and Charming makes a slight face at the memory that brings. "She asked me to bring her here in her true form. I did."

"You brought her here as a _dragon_?" Charming says incredulously.

"She asked. I obliged. I am nothing if not obliging."

Both Snow and Charming seem entirely unimpressed by that explanation. As they should be; it's not the entire explanation, of course.

"They're all still cursed. They don't remember who they are. If they see a dragon, there will be mass panic in town," Snow says, giving Gold a cold stare he merely shrugs at. "Where is this dragon?"

"Under the library," he says. "There is an elevator down."

"Then she's trapped there?" Snow asks hopefully.

"No. There is magic here now. She can take human form again."

"Oh, hell," Charming says, a rather apt summary in Gold's opinion. "Come on, Snow, we better..."

"Before you go," Gold interjects, "you might want to reclaim a few items of yours I've been holding on to..."

II

Henry knocks insistently on the door again. Finally, he can hear footsteps inside and Regina opens the door at last.

"Henry!" she says in surprise. "You should be at school."

"There was a tremor," he says, breathing rapidly. "I felt it. I didn't imagine it. Something's happening."

"So you skipped school," she concludes. She looks almost amused for a moment. "Henry, we've had this talk many times and with your parents too. You cannot skip school just because you want adventures and go looking for them."

"But something's happening, I know it," he insists. Regina looks at him, smiling faintly. "Mom and dad weren't home."

"I am sure they just went out to check that everyone else is fine, Henry. That's who they are."

Snow White and Prince Charming, Henry thinks. Yes. That's who they are, he knows that now and they must know it too.

"You think they went to find Emma? I couldn't find her either and she won't answer her phone."

"I am sure Emma is fine, Henry. They're all fine, I'm sure. Go home and wait for them."

"Who is this, then?" a voice says, and Henry looks over Regina's shoulder to see another woman there. She is dressed strangely yet looks familiar and he wonders why. Maybe she's in the book.

"No one you should concern yourself with," Regina says in a voice he almost finds scary. She was the Evil Queen, he remembers. It's just hard to think of her as that now. She's more like a strict aunt.

"I think I should," the woman says. "Isn't Emma what you called this savior? The one to break this curse, by her death or otherwise?"

Henry lights up. Someone else who knows about this curse, someone who will help. "Emma is my mom. My other mom, my birth mom. Snow White is my first mom."

"Ah," the woman says. Her voice sounds pleasant but her face is not, Henry finds. "That makes things much easier."

"No," Regina says. She's looking at him very strangely, he finds, putting a hand on his cheek as well. "You will not harm him. Or them."

"You wish to protect him? To protect Snow White, the one who ruined your happiness? You have changed. I did not believe it when I heard."

"Believe it now," Regina says, turning just as fire comes at her and Henry screams her name.

II

"Nothing," Graham sums up as his torchlight flickers across the exit to the mine they've just walked through. "Whatever those tremors were, they didn't come from here."

"They came from somewhere," Emma says stubbornly. She trudges the last few feet to the exit, drawing a breath of fresh air. As she stands there, her phone breaks the silence almost angrily.

"Yeah?" she says as way of greeting. At first she only gets static, so she moves further away from the mine. Probably no reception in there.

"She took Henry," the voice on the other end says. It takes Emma a moment to realize it's Regina Mills and then the words seem to sink in and fill her with cold dread.

"What?"

"Maleficent. She took Henry," Regina says again. She sounds almost defeated. "I've been trying to reach Sn... Mary Margaret and David, but they're not at home. She took him to her lair under the library. I..."

Emma doesn't listen to the rest, sprinting for her car. She can hear Graham call after her in confusion, but she pays it no heed.

_Henry._

II

"She could be anywhere if she can take human form," David sums up, walking up the last steps to their apartment. Snow can only nod. They will check out the library even so, of course, but first they have to ensure Henry gets looked after when he comes home from school.

He lets go of her hand to reach for the key as they reach the door, as his other hand is still firmly gripping the bag with everything Rumpelstiltskin gave them. It may come in handy.

The door opens before David can push the key in. It's Regina, looking much worse for wear. She has a spare key, Snow remembers faintly. From the time they all got flu at the same time, she and David and Henry. Regina looked after them all then.

She had almost forgotten that.

"It is Henry," Regina says without preamble. "Maleficent took him when she realized he is Emma's son. I tried to stop her. I swear I tried, but magic is different here. I didn't have enough yet."

"Henry," Snow says, feeling her heart skip a beat. Henry.

"Where has she taken him, Regina?" David asks, his voice almost breaking.

"Under the library, I think. That's what I told Emma. I called her while trying to find you. She's probably already there."

Snow meets Charming's gaze, knowing he is thinking exactly what she is. He drops the bag on the floor without ceremony, and she pulls out her bow and arrows as he pulls out his sword.

No one will hurt their family. Not even a dragon.


	31. Chapter Thirty

II

**Chapter Thirty**

II

Present day

II

A lair under a library. It sounds like something out of a superhero movie and yet here Emma is, taking the elevator down to it. Her stomach is in knots and her throat seems to taste of bile and all Emma can do to stand upright is think of Henry.

Her Henry, even though she knows she has no right to claim him as that after giving him up. He has a loving family that she could never compete with anyway and she doesn't want to. She just wants him to be safe, to be loved, to have everything she gave him up for. Otherwise, why did she give him up at all?

The elevator comes to a shuddering halt and she steps out, only to find herself in a cave of massive proportions. For a moment, she just stands and blinks at it. This is below the library in Storybrooke? What the hell is this town?

(She can't even ask Graham, since she stranded him at the mines. He'll call someone and get picked up, she's sure, but it may take him longer to figure out where she is.)

"28 years," a female voice says and Emma pulls her gun out, trying to judge where it's coming from. "28 years here, thanks to that little imp."

"I can offer you 28 years in a jail cell unless you let Henry go," Emma counters, stepping forward carefully. One step, then another.

"You must be Emma then," the voice says. "I thought so. You have that touch of... Charming about you. You may call me Maleficent."

"What do you want?"

"The curse to stay," Maleficent says. "If it is broken, then a little sleeping beauty of mine may wake up. Not to mention I owe this to my dear Rumpelstiltskin."

The curse, Emma thinks. The curse, again? Henry, then Jefferson, now this woman? What the hell is with this town?

"What do you want from me?" Emma calls out, biting back the urge to call all this insanity.

"Simple. I want you to prick yourself on the needle of a spindle you find further in. You do that and I will let Henry go."

"I have to prick myself on a needle and Henry walks free? You got it."

"Like hell you will!" David Nolan says, stepping up next to her with a sword. She barely has time to react before Mary Margaret is there also, holding a bow with the arrow ready and aimed into the darkness.

_What the hell?_ She stares at them, trying to wrap her head around it. Okay, if Henry is missing Regina probably told his parents as well, but what is with the medieval fighting gear?

"I had hoped things wouldn't come to this," the voice says, and steps out of the darkness. Or rather grows with the darkness, becoming larger and darker as she looks at whatever the hell this is.

"Oh hell," Emma says, staring upwards and feeling like she's the one who is crazy. Still, there is no doubt that she is in fact seeing what she's seeing.

It's a dragon.

"Run, Emma!" Snow calls, firing the arrow as the dragon roars. Emma fires her gun, but it seems to do little good, and she throws herself to the side as David jumps in front.

The dragon hisses at him, breathing fire as he throws himself clear and Mary Margaret fires another arrow. Emma fires another round, but again to little effect. The dragon seems to have temporarily forgotten about her, chasing David instead and she gets the feeling he's doing it purposely. He ducks and hides behind rocks, vanishing into the dark with the dragon after him while Mary Margaret fires another arrow.

This one hits. They can all hear the roar of pain and then a brief silence until David comes running out.

"Trapped her for a moment," he says, his breath rapid. "Any sign of Henry?"

"Not sure she even has him here," Mary Margaret says, staring into the dark. "Henry!"

Emma stares at them both, wondering when fighting _a dragon_ became so normal neither of them is even commenting on it. They're just treating it as entirely normal, and she follows them a little dazed as they continue further into the cave.

"He's here!" Mary Margaret calls, and sure enough, there is Henry, He's gagged and tied and Emma makes a mental note to make sure it's 28 years and then some in a jail cell for... Well, the dragon.

She'll just have to build a bigger cell."Is he...?" David asks, cutting the bonds as Mary Margaret removes the gag and lowers her head next to Henry's. Emma can just stare, reaching out to touch Henry's arm and then pulling back.

"He's breathing," Mary Margaret says, sounding relieved. "She didn't use the curse on him. He's just knocked out."

"Curse?" Emma repeats. "We just fought a dragon and you're talking about a curse and what the hell is going on? And you! Have you taken lessons in archery without telling me? And you in sword fighting?" she asks.

David and Mary Margaret exchange a glance, both lowering their weapons.

"The curse Henry was telling you about? It's real. We know who we are, Emma," David says softly. Mary Margaret looks up at him encouragingly, squeezing his arm. "Ever since you came to Storybrooke, we've started regaining our memories."

"And just who are you?" Emma asks weakly. She feels a strong urge to sit down.

"I'm Snow White," Mary Margaret says, looking expectantly at Emma.

"I'm David," David says a touch sheepishly. "But Snow tends to call me Charming."

Snow White. Charming. _Prince Charming._

"You're Snow White and Prince Charming?" Emma says weakly. It sounds utterly absurd as she says it aloud. And yet, yet...

"Yes," David says, watching her intently.

Emma stares at them, both looking entirely serious. Then she remembers she was fighting a dragon mere minutes ago and decides to just go with it.

"Okay," she says, shrugging. David and Mary Margaret exchange another glance. "Wait. When Henry first told me about the curse, he said that Snow White and Prince Charming were my parents."

"Yes," Mary Margaret says, her smile growing and becoming luminous as she carefully walks closer. "We're your parents."

Emma looks at David, noting the tears in his eyes as he takes a faltering step towards her, following Mary Margaret. They believe it. They believe it and they feel it and Emma just stares at them. Very carefully, Mary Margaret embraces her and a moment later David embraces them both.

Her parents.

She can't even begin to process that, just lets them hold her while it feels like her brain or her heart or something is about to implode inside her.

"I hate to break this moment," she says in a low voice, feeling both of them stiffen a little, "but the dragon is coming back."

"Yes," Mary Margaret says, squeezing her even closer for a moment. "We know."

And with that, David pulls her to one side and Mary Margaret dives to cover Henry as the fireball hits where they were standing just seconds before.

II

It's only her first drink of the day, yet Belle has a strange urge to just toss it away. It doesn't seem to be working too well anyway. Her chest hurts and her head hurts and everything seems to dully hurt one way or another.

It doesn't seem to help that she's quit her job, that she has money enough to go anywhere. She still feels trapped.

"What's your problem, gorgeous?" a voice says and she sighs. Another guy thinking he can save her, another guy thinking she needs saving at all.

"No heart," she says brightly, a joke and yet not.

"Same," he says, and she finally turns to look at him. "Lost mine a long time ago and then it died when she did. How about yours?"

"Can't even remember having it," she says.

"Killian."

"Belle."

He smiles, and somehow, she just knows he already knew her name all too well.

II

It hurts to be hit by a dragon's tail, Emma realizes, as it slams into both her and David. Him most of all, taking the impact for her and dropping the sword with a clatter as he collapses against her. Her gun goes flying into the dark, she has no idea where.

"David!" Mary Margaret screams. Emma can dimly see her, still shielding Henry with her body as the dragon kicks and hits. It seems strangely pleased with that and then, then the darkness shrinks and becomes a woman.

"Emma," she says pleasantly.

"Mary Margaret! Henry!" Emma calls. David's still collapsed against her and she pulls at him, managing to drag his body with her a few steps.

"They will be fine," Maleficent says pleasantly, her face anything but. "For now. I can kill them. I can kill your little family that you just found. Or you can make it easy for us all."

"What do you want?" Emma asks.

"The spindle," Maleficent says, drawing fire into her hand and illuminating the room. Emma can see the spindle now, placed against a rock.

"You will prick your finger on the needle and take this sleeping curse or your son will die," Maleficent says darkly. "That way, you will be trapped forever in a dreamless sleep and the curse will last forever."

"Fine," Emma says, stepping towards the spindle when she suddenly notices someone else is already standing there. Henry.

"She has to break the curse," Henry says quietly. He holds his finger out and Maleficent and Emma can just both stare as he carefully pricks his finger on the needle.

For a second, the world stands still. Then Henry falls forward and all Emma can do is watch.


	32. Chapter Thirty-One

II

**Chapter Thirty-One**

II

"Curious," Maleficent says, staring at Henry's body as Emma does. "What a shame. I will have to do this the other way then. There is still your mother and father."

No, Emma thinks rather incoherently, a feeling more than words. _No._ Not Henry, not David, not Mary Margaret, not while she still has breath. No.

Maleficent is growing again, she notices, taking dragon form. Carefully, Emma eases David down and reaches for his sword almost automatically. It feels light in her grip and still a little warm from his hands.

Her father, he called himself. David.

"Hey!" she calls and the dragon lifts his head just as she throws.

The sword spins and spins, then slams into the dragon forcefully. A glow starts emanating, spreading across its body and Emma covers David from the impact as the dragon actually explodes all around them and becomes ash.

Huh. Her ears ring and her head rings and then it all goes still.

The cave is now very quiet apart from her rapid breathing. She puts a hand to David's chest and the faint heartbeats reassure her. Carefully, she pulls him with her over to where Henry is.

"Henry," she murmurs affectionately. "Don't scare me like that."

He doesn't answer. As she touches him, he feels cold. He's not breathing either, she notes with rising panic. No no no no. What was it the crazy dragon said? Something about not waking or forever or some curse? What the hell did the woman come dragon say? What the hell did she do?

"Henry!" she calls. She's crying, she realizes, her tears falling on his face. Still he doesn't wake. No. Oh no.

She eventually has no tears left and just sits for a moment longer, watching him. Then she eases his small body against David's and wanders into the dark to see if she can find Mary Margaret. She finds the other woman knocked against a rock, clearly having taken the impact for Henry. She is breathing, even if faintly, so Emma manages to pull her with to where David and Henry are lying.

Neither of them stir. She can just stare helplessly at them, grief making her feel numb. She failed them. She failed everyone. Henry thought her the savior but Henry is gone and the Nolans have lost their child and they think they're her parents and now they'll hate her.

She lowers her head. She was just beginning to love them, love them all.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, pressing her forehead against Henry's. "I love you."

She exhales, and presses a kiss to his forehead, then after a moment David's, then Mary Margaret's. As she pulls back, something seems to emanate from the all, a wave of light moving outwards.

Henry gasps, drawing in a sharp breath. She just stares as he looks at her, then throws his arms around her and she can't think, can't think at all because everything is just too much. "I love you too."

II

The wave moves through Storybrooke, making every single resident hit by it pause in their tracks as memories come flooding back. Ruby pauses. Granny pauses. Leroy pauses.

Some cry. Some merely stand there. Some hurry off to find a loved one.

On and on it goes, and Gold watches it with a faint smile. So. His savior has done it. The curse is broken. Maleficent did have her use after all. As always, the future can have some surprises too in how it unfolds.

Of course, now the real work begins.

Bae, he thinks. It's time to leave this town and find his son. But first he has a little test to do and then a potion to retrieve.

II

Belle is on her third drink with Killian Jones, who claims to be a pirate, when something like light seems to slam into her and she almost drops the drink.

Belle. She's Belle but more than Belle, more than this Belle.

A whole different life that also was hers fills her memories, making her dizzy. She stares at Killian, who looks strangely at her, but it's not really him she's seeing.

He ripped out her heart, she remembers. _Rumpelstiltskin._

II

His chest really, really hurts, is the first thing David registers. He groans in pain, feeling hands on his face.

"Dad?"

"Henry?" he murmurs. He opens his eyes to see that it is indeed Henry leaning over him and Emma sitting next to them, looking dazed. "Are you hurt?"

She shakes her head faintly.

"Mom is," Henry says. "I can't wake her."

"Oh," he says. He puts a hand to his side as he pulls himself up slightly. Cracked or broken rib, he's fairly sure. Something smells horrible all around them and he can see Snow just an arm's length away, looking pale. He manages to ease himself over and while she doesn't stir at his touch, he does see she's breathing and she has a pulse.

"What happened?" he asks Emma.

"I killed the dragon," she says tonelessly. She seems completely shell-shocked and if her head hurts as much as his does, it's no wonder.

"She woke me from the sleeping curse," Henry says, sounding excited. "I knew she would!"

Okay, David thinks. Dead dragon, broken sleeping curse, cracked ribs and passed-out wife and shell-shocked daughter. Okay. That just about sums it up, apparently.

Carefully, he pulls Snow into his lap, eases an arm around Emma who leans against him and closes her eyes, and Henry puts his arms around Emma and leans against her. His family, all still here. He'll get them all out of here in a moment, but for he just wants to savor the feeling.

All still here. Okay.

II

Graham looks dazed and Regina has to actually pull him with her as they exit the elevator. Normally, she would tell him to snap out of it, but she saw the wave of light and felt the magic in it. She knows what it means.

The curse is broken. Suddenly having two lives in one's head means that it's not all that easy to snap out of, after all.

"Emma, Graham," she says sharply. "Emma came here. Remember I told you when you called?"

"You took my heart," he says, looking at her with the same expression he had on his face as she took it.

"I also gave it back," she says sharply. "Other past grievances can perhaps wait until after we save your deputy from the dragon?"

Something seems to click in Graham and he nods, striding into the dark with his torchlight. She follows, noting the smell of ash in the air. Oh. So it is too late to save Maleficent then. Her friend. Still her friend, the friend she wanted to reassure the curse would be broken and instead Maleficent used her to try to enact vengeance.

She sighs, pausing as she sees the golden egg on the floor. Hmm. A rather strange object to simply be lying about.

"They're here!" Graham calls and she kicks the egg into the dark before following the sound. As she approaches, she can see Emma leaning against David who is walking unsteadily, Graham lifting Snow into his arms and Henry, Henry chatting excitedly.

Regina walks over to support David on his other side and together, they all walk towards the elevator.

"My sword and Snow's bow," David mutters. He sounds a little out of it as well. "Regina, could you get them?"

"I'll get them," she says, easing him into the elevator. "Graham, send it back down and then get them to the hospital. No need to wait for me."

He nods as she steps away, David pressing a kiss to the temple of a rather dazed-looking Emma just as the door closes.

As promised, she does get the sword and Snow's bow, but she also makes sure to grab the golden egg before heading back up. It may be nothing. But it may also be something.

She gives the place one last look, lowering her head for a moment. It is a tomb now, Maleficent's tomb. Whatever else, Maleficent was her friend for a while when hardly anyone else was.

Then she rides the elevator up, to life and a rather new Storybrooke, she's pretty sure.


	33. Chapter Thirty-Two

II

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

II

Present day

II

"You broke the curse," Graham says and Emma just feels dizzy as Mary Margaret is wheeled off and David is pushed along despite protests, leaving Henry holding onto her. The hospital is buzzing with activity and still everything feels slow and a little dimmed to her.

"I guess I did," she says, as Graham steps closer, cupping her head in his hands.

"Thank you," he says, and leans forward to kiss her. Hesitantly at first, then more assertive.

"Don't kiss my mom!" Henry says below them. "Dad won't like that."

For some reason, it makes Emma burst into laughter. Right. Her father won't like that. Prince Charming won't like that. Her father Prince Charming won't like that.

She laughs and laughs as it turns to sobs and then Graham is holding her and Henry is holding her and her life is completely, completely mad.

II

Snow wakes to a rather impressive headache. For a moment she keeps her eyes half-closed, feeling bright white light around her and trying to adjust without it feeling like an onslaught.

Then she opens her eyes to see David staring down at her. He's sitting by her head, holding one of her hands and smiling at her.

"Hey," he says softly. Carefully, he puts a hand on her cheek and she leans into the touch.

"We have to stop meeting like this," she jokes weakly and he laughs, then winces a little.

"Two broken ribs," he tells her, probably seeing the worry in her eyes. "It's nothing, don't worry about it. You have a concussion and two broken ribs, so you have me beat."

"Emma and Henry," she murmurs, remembering their two children.

"They're fine," he assures her lovingly, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Emma is a little in shock, but she's physically fine. The curse is broken too."

"How?"

"Sleeping curse, Henry and true love's kiss," he says simply. "Maleficent is dead."

She takes that in, feeling her body protest as she eases herself up a little. It doesn't matter. She'll endure a lot of pain for this. "I want to see Emma."

"How did I know you'd say that?" he says fondly, putting a hand on her back to support her.

"You know me?" she suggests, looking up at him.

"Better than anyone," he says firmly, kissing her as he lifts her up (despite how much it clearly pains him) and then lets her down on her own feet on the floor. "Let's find our daughter."

II

Emma has been staring at the ceiling in the waiting room pretty much since Dr. Whale gave her clean bill of health, Henry is tucked against her side and every now and then a random member of Storybrooke will come over and thank her for breaking the curse.

The curse. The curse that is real and is now broken, apparently in the same way she broke Henry's sleeping curse. True love's kiss.

It makes her feel more than a little dizzy, though not as much as everything else she could think about. Like how her parents are Henry's adoptive parents and Graham is apparently the huntsman and the town actually is full of fairytale characters and two of them are her parents.

Who gave her up. Who sent her to this world on her own to save everyone.

"Emma," a voice says and sure enough, it's David and Mary Margaret (thinking of them as Snow and Charming is simply too weird) approaching her carefully. They both look like hell, but both also look like hell couldn't keep them away.

"Hey," she offers weakly. "I guess it's all true then."

"Yeah," Mary Margaret says. Her eyes hold tears as she approaches. "Emma, you must have so many questions."

"Why?" she says simply, looking at David too as they both sit down. "Why did you give me up? Was it so I could save everyone?"

"No!" David says sharply, as if the mere idea offends him. "Emma, the curse was hitting. It was the only way to save you. The wardrobe could only take one."

"Yes," Mary Margaret chimes in. "We wanted to give you your best chance."

"It wasn't much of a chance," Emma says darkly, thinking of years and years in the system.

David and Mary Margaret exchange a gaze and the hurt in it makes Emma hurt too, so she closes her eyes and takes a breath. She's not ready for this now. She's not ready for this at all.

"I'm sorry. I am really tired. Could we maybe discuss this later? When you're not on painkillers and I am not smelling like a dragon's remains?"

Mary Margaret looks ready to protest it, but David puts a hand on hers and she seems to bite back whatever reply she intended.

"Of course, Emma," David says softly. "I don't think Whale will release us yet, so why don't you take Henry and stay at our apartment tonight? Or for as long as you like?"

"Thanks," Emma says, looking at Henry still sleeping against her side. "I'm... Get better."

With that she lifts up Henry, who puts his arms around her even in his sleep, and hurries out, not wanting to see the expression on her parents' faces. Her parents.

She can still imagine the hurt on them well enough; it makes her heart hurt as well.

II

"What are we doing here?" Smee asks nervously. Gold merely smiles as he watches the sign. Leaving Storybrooke, yes. That is the idea. But first a little test.

"How long have you been double crossing me?" he asks leisurely, and Smee looks ready to flee then and there. Of course he would have ages ago, hadn't Gold bound him.

"Boss, I would never..."

"You would and you have. You let Mary Margaret escape. You allowed my manor to be set on fire. Now, who is it? Regina? Sidney, working for Regina?"

"Hook!" Smee blurts out. "I didn't know who he was, boss! I swear! I didn't know who you were either until the curse broke. I just wanted the extra money."

"Hook, here?" Gold looks at the horizon thoughtfully. Hmm. The pirate. "Smee, what's my name?"

"Rumpelstiltskin," Smee says, wide-eyed.

"Right," Gold says and shoves him across the town line.

For a tiny, tiny second nothing happens. Then a blue color seems to flicker across him and he stands still as a shudder goes through his body.

"What's my name?" Gold asks again, Smee turning to him and looking confused. "What's my name?"

"Mr. Gold," Smee says, an honest answer and the one Rumpelstiltskin wanted least of all. So. He'll have to do this the complicated way.

II

"Aurora!" Philip says breathlessly, watching the bed she is sleeping in, or comatose as the official diagnosis has been for 28 years. Carefully, he leans down and kisses her.

She gasps and wakes after a moment, staring at him with bright, bright eyes. "Philip! I told you not to come after me."

"I'm afraid I didn't have much choice," he says mildly. She smiles at him, then takes in her surroundings with confusion.

"Where are we?"

"About that," Philip says, and braces himself for a rather long explanation.

II

"Snow!" Red calls, stepping into the hospital room with a bright, happy face. Behind her, all the dwarfs are gathered as well.

"Red!" Snow says happily, lifting her head from her pillow to accept the offered hug. Beside her, she can feel David stir from his sleep and accept Grumpy's offered handshake.

"The curse is broken for everyone then?" David asks. He sounds as doped as she feels. Whale has insisted on it, but at least allowing them to share the bed again.

"Yeah," Red replies. "Your daughter did it. The savior."

Snow feels her face collapse a little, so she hides it against Red's shoulder and hugs her friend. It doesn't seem to fool Red completely, who pulls back and looks at her. Whatever she sees makes her smile a little sadly.

"We will come back later," Red assures her. "Rest, Snow."

The dwarfs echo that, giving a small bow as they head out, Red lingering by the door a moment to smile again.

"You heard her," David whispers, putting his hands around her waist and pressing himself closer. He kisses her shoulder before putting his head against it.  
"You heard Emma," she counters. He sighs.

"Snow, she has had a number of surprises today, including a dragon. Give her time."

"But we've already lost 28 years with her."

"I know," he says sadly, kissing her shoulder again. "I know."

II

The knock on the door isn't unexpected, even if Regina has had plenty of unexpected visitors of late. This one, this one had to come.

"Rumpelstiltskin," she says. He just holds out a hand.

"My potion, please."

She smiles. The moment she had opened the golden egg she knew what it was and who had put it there, of course. It could only be him.

"Of course," she says, holding out her own hand. The purple in the potion swirls and he looks up sharply as she puts it in his hand.

"What did you do with the rest of it? That is only half!"

"I drank it," Regina says, and slams the door with magic in his face.


	34. Chapter Thirty-Three

II

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

II

Present day

II

Emma can't sleep.

Henry is sleeping next to her. After she fed him dinner and he talked excited about everything, he pretty much went out like a light. She can't sleep. Her head hurts massively, but she can't sleep.

Her parents. Her parents who she has been searching so long for, but never in a million years imagined would be Snow White and Prince Charming and Henry's adoptive parents to boot. His parents and grandparents in one. It's dizzying.

She's also killed a dragon and broke a curse. All in a day's work, apparently.

Her head really hurts. Carefully, she eases out of the bed and goes hunting for aspirin in the Nolans' bathroom. Or perhaps it should be the Charmings' or something.

Her search successful, she takes one and then turns on the light in the kitchen to sit there for a while. Even without David and Mary Margaret here, she can still feel their presence, as if something of them has become absorbed by this apartment.

The knock on the door is soft, but she still grabs her gun before hearing to open. She's had more than enough surprises of late.

It is Graham, leaning against the door with a six-pack of beer in one hand and a bottle of scotch in that other.

"Still owe you that beer," he says, smiling.

"What's the rest for?" she counters.

"For bets you have still to win," he says, and with a faint smile, she lets him in.

II

Belle is sitting on his desk as Gold walks into his office. She looks shaken, but calm, lifting her gaze to meet his as he enters.

"Belle," he says. Funny. He's thought about the moment when the curse would break for 28 years and he still has no idea what to say to her.

"You took my heart," she says.

"Yes," he agrees. "I gave you a part of mine instead."

"So if you die, I die," she says. She is still watching him, still appearing calm.

"Or if you die, I die," he says. He knew that risk when he chose to do this. Immortal but for her now. She can kill him.

It was still worth it to have her live. To have her live and cast the curse; for that he paid the price.

"Who am I without my heart, Rumpel?" she asks sadly and he has no answer for her. She sighs, jumping off the desk and looking up at him. Softly, she touches his cheek and then turns to leave.

"Belle?"

"Yes?"

"The curse is broken, but there is still magic here. If you cross the town line, you'll forgot your real memories and only remember what the curse gave you."

"Is that a warning or an offer to forget if I want to?"

"It is what you want it to be," he says and she nods at that.

II

"You knew my parents," Emma says, taking a sip of her drink. Graham nods, thinking back to memories that feel strangely strong for being 28 years ago.

"I was sent by Regina, the Evil Queen, to cut out Snow White's heart," he says and Emma's eyes widen. "But your mother, she... I couldn't do it. I let her go. Regina took my heart instead."

"She could... She could take your heart without killing you?"

"Yes," he says, then remembers that for Emma this is all as strange as this world would have been to him if not for cursed memories. "You can do it with magic."

"But you have your heart now?"

"Yes. I helped free your father from her dungeon and he woke your mother from the sleeping curse with true love's kiss. Together, they managed to capture the Evil Queen – and then she surprised us all by expressing regret. They pardoned her. She gave me my heart back. I stayed with your parents until the curse hit."

Emma seems to consider that. "Did they... They gave me up, how..."

"They weren't planning to give you up," he says softly, putting a hand on hers. "They were planning to send your mother through the wardrobe while still pregnant."

"But that would have separated them for 28 years."

"Yes," he says. Her eyes widen. Perhaps she is thinking of how much Snow and Charming love each other, as he is. They were still willing to face those years apart for Emma.

"What happened?"

"You came early. The wardrobe could only take one, so they sent you."

Emma swallows and closes her eyes, then downs the bottle in one go. "I hate fairytales."

II

Regina walks into the hospital, her head buzzing with power. Magic. So much magic in her now, as if she simply is magic.

Love too, she can feel. Even in her darkest moments, she always did feel something akin to love, but that pales against what she feels now. In that part of her that is still rational, she knows drinking a potion of true move may not just have given her magic, but have had some side effects as well.

She doesn't care.

Her father barely stirs as she walks in. The heart monitor is as irregular as always. She knows only the curse has kept him alive all these 28 years, trapped. About to die but not quite dead.

She puts her hand on his chest and watches the heart monitor as it becomes steady and stays so. Beat by beat it ticks, each strong and regular now.

"Regina?" her father asks sleepily.

"Sleep, father," she says gently. He closes his eyes and does so, and she touches his face lovingly. He's going to live. She can bring life. Yes. She can bring life.

All she needs is a heart.

In the hallway she pauses for a moment, then decides she might as well. Quietly, she finds Snow and Charming's room and walks in. True to form, they're sleeping together, not to be separated. She knows, she's tried.

They are looking bruised and battered and generally like hell as well, at least until she touches them and feels the magic heal. Neither of them wakes, and so Regina lets herself touch Snow's face as well.

The anger is still there, of course. Maybe it will always be there. But that isn't all. No. That was never all and especially not now.

Gently, Regina strokes a finger down her step-daughter's cheek. "Good night, Snow White."

Then she leaves.

II

Emma isn't sure who kissed who. All she's sure of is that she's stretched across the sofa and Graham is underneath her and they're kissing. Kissing and kinda making out, actually.

"Emma," Graham whispers and she bites down on his lower lip hard. She doesn't want to talk. She wants hands and skin and kissing and not to think, not to think at all.

So he gives her that.

II

"How did it go?" Killian asks sympathetically. Belle just sighs as she sits down next to him and takes the coffee he offers her. "Did you confront the stealer of your heart?"

"In a manner of speaking," she replies. "How about you?"

"Oh, not yet," Killian says. "I think I will wait a little while. The curse breaking has changed a lot of things, don't you think?"

"Yeah," she agrees. "You never told me who you were back in our land."

"A simple sailor," he says and somehow, she doubts that. He doesn't seem the type for simple. "You didn't tell me who you were either."

"An adventurer," she says, lifting her chin. Yes. She was that too.

"To adventures then," he says, lifting his cup of tea and clinking it against her cup of coffee. "Maybe we can even get out of this town at last."

"No," she says. "We lose our memories if we do that. Revert back to our cursed selves."

"Better not then," Killian offers and smiles.

II

Gold leans back in his chair and considers. Smee forgot himself, reverting back to his cursed self. However, Gold doesn't have a cursed self so he may be immune from it. Or it may create cursed memories for him. He cannot risk it. He must make a potion that will protect him. After all this time, he cannot risk forgetting.

Then there is Regina, powered by true love's magic. He isn't even sure how powerful she is now, if she is near matching him or not.

Then there is Hook. Yes. Hook. There is one easy solution to that, he considers, and walks over to the wall to open a hidden compartment and then the safe. He puts on his gloves as he reaches inside and carefully pulls out the amulet.

Yes. With magic here, it will work. A fate worse than death. A fate suited for Hook – as soon as he can find him.


	35. Chapter Thirty-Four

II

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_They're dancing, Graham notices. Snow and Charming are dancing barefoot in the grass, no music except the birds' song. They don't seem to need it, don't seem to need anything but the rhythm they find themselves._

_He's been sent to find them because Princess Abigail and her fiance Fredrick have arrived, but he cannot make himself interrupt them. He can only watch as Charming dips Snow and she laughs, laughs even as he kisses her and they sink onto the grass between the trees._

_Graham decides it can take him another hour to find them, good at tracking though he may be. He slips back between the trees and closes his eyes against the sunlight._

_What would it be like, he wonders, to find a true love such as theirs? Would there even be someone out there that could love the huntsman?_

II

Emma has time to register that the door opens, but that's about all she has time for as David and Mary Margaret come walking into the apartment and freezes at the sight that greets them.

Graham and Emma on the sofa, no clothes and just a thin blanket. 

Shit, Emma thinks. Shit shit shit. Graham is stirring underneath her and she realizes it's still dark outside. It must be really, really early. Shit. Shit. At least it's not Henry – or maybe that would be better because he might not have any idea but David and Mary Margaret have very good ideas indeed. 

David is still staring. Mary Margaret has covered her eyes and her shoulders are shaking. It takes Emma a moment to realize it's from laughter.

Graham sits up next to her and Emma can't look at him. She feels the heat in her cheeks and the rather inappropriate hilarious thought that at least now she knows what it's like to have been walked in on by her parents.

“I better go,” Graham says. David shoots him a gaze that Emma finds rather impressively regal, parental and threatening all at once. 

“I'm going to... Make breakfast,” Mary Margaret manages, pulling David with her.

Graham dives for his clothes while Emma pulls the blanket closer around her and wonders where the hell her underwear went. Oh right. Carefully, she digs her hand between the sofa cushions and pulls it up. David and Mary Margaret have their backs turned rather demonstrably, she finds, and she dresses hurriedly. 

“I'll see you at work,” Graham offers. He makes a move as if to kiss her, then takes a look at David's back and seems to change his mind. Instead he just nods and heads out.

Emma takes three deep calming breaths after finishing dressing before taking the chair next to the kitchen counter. David is making pancakes, she notices, while Mary Margaret is working on tea. 

“Dr. Whale released us early,” Mary Margaret says cheerfully into the silence. 

“I'll say,” Emma says. “Wait, how are you two up and walking, you looked like hell last I saw?”

“It's like magic,” David says simply. He dumps a pancake on her plate almost sternly, but it does look delicious. 

“Magic?” Emma repeats. “Oh right, magic. Of course. Someone... Healed you with magic?”

“Rumpelstiltskin, maybe,” David says, not sounding too happy about it.

“Or Regina,” Mary Margaret says, looking a lot more happy about that. 

Emma bites into her pancake, wondering just when her life turned into breakfast conversations about magic after being walked in on after sex by her parents.

At least the pancake is pretty good.

II

Regina walks into the crypt, pausing only when she reaches the coffin with Daniel's body. It is as she left it, preserved and frozen. Just missing a heart. 

“Daniel,” she says softly, drawing her fingers across the glass. 

She tried to get him retrieved once. It failed then. But now, with the magic of true love... She may just succeed. 

“Daniel,” she says again, longingly. 

The crypt offers nothing but silence. 

II

Henry wakes to the sounds of breakfast being made and chatter, and bounces down the stairs before even getting dressed. Mom is there and dad and Emma, eating pancakes in the kitchen. 

“Mom! Dad! Mom!” he calls and dad catches him as he leaps off the final step of the stairs.

“Hey there, champ,” dad days, smiling at him and lifting him up. Henry throws his arms around him and hugs, feeling as if everything is right with the world. And there's pancakes. 

“Henry,” dad says seriously, setting him down and kneeling down as well. “Mom and I are sorry we didn't believe you about the curse.”

Henry nods. “You really are Prince Charming and Snow White!”

“Yes, we are,” mom says. Emma looks down, making a face he can't quite read. Adults make a lot of strange faces in general, but Emma even more so.

“Are you still my mom and dad?” he asks and mom comes over, kneeling down as well. 

“We will _always_ be your mom and dad. Just like Emma will always be your mom too,” she says gently. 

“And you'll always be her mom and dad!” Henry finishes excitedly, looking up at Emma. She's making another strange face again, he notices.

“Always,” dad vows and Henry hugs him again, then mom, then Emma's leg until she slips off her chair and hugs him. 

“How about some pancakes, kid?” she asks him and he beams up at her. She gets back up on her chair and he takes the one next to her. Dad dumps several pancakes on his plate and winks. 

Beaming, Henry digs in and watches his family finally be all together.

II

“Graham?”

Graham is half expecting it to be David slash Charming warn him over Emma, but instead it's a hesitant-looking Belle who steps into the office. She's dressed a little differently today, probably affected by regaining lost memories. As they all are. 

“Belle,” he offers. “Is it still Belle?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Can I still call you Graham?”

“Yeah. Post-curse pleasantries aside, how can I help you?”

“I want to find out who someone was,” she says. “In our land, I mean. I need to know if he's trouble.”

“For who?” Graham asks, leaning backwards in his chair. 

“Someone I loved,” Belle says and smiles sadly. 

II

Emma goes outside to get some air while David and Henry do the dishes. She sits there until she feels someone sit down next to her. Even without looking, she knows who it is.

Mary Margaret. Her mother. Her _mother_ , such a logically absurd thought and yet resonating emotionally.

“Giving you up was the hardest thing your father and I ever did,” Mary Margaret says softly into the air. 

“You still gave me up,” Emma says. She can feel Mary Margaret draw a sharp breath and she can vividly imagine the look of hurt on her mother's face. “I know I gave up Henry and I shouldn't feel like this, that I am being a hypocrite... But he got you and I got nothing.”

“You got us now,” Mary Margaret says softly, a promise and a plea both. 

“Yeah,” Emma says, drawing a sharp breath. She remembers what Graham told her the night before, what she's seen of Mary Margaret and David while she's been here. She especially remembers how they risked their lives for her and Henry with Maleficent. “I guess that's a start.”

“A start,” Mary Margaret says and Emma dares look up this time. There is so much hope and joy in Mary Margaret's expression that it feels like being punched in the gut. 

“A start,” Emma agrees, managing a faint smile of her own. 

II

His leg is still wood. 

It's been bothering August since he realized the curse was broken. It was done, after all. Emma Swan did what he was meant to help her do. She broke the curse. She saved everyone. He didn't help at all.

Maybe that's the problem. He did nothing. His father promised the Blue Fairy he would help and he hasn't. He did nothing. He took money from Gold, he let things be as they were and he wasn't a good boy.

So what can he do now to help her? Rumpelstiltskin will be using Emma's son to get to Neal, that he is fairly sure. But Rumpelstiltskin wouldn't hurt the child, his own grandchild – right?

II

It is David who comes to sit by her on the stairs this time. He doesn't say anything though, just sits with her in a silence that isn't altogether uncomfortable. He seems content to take it at her pace more so than Mary Margaret and she isn't sure if she feels grateful for that or not. 

“Don't break Graham's nose,” she finally says. As awkward a topic that is, it still feels easier than most of the others. 

“No promises,” David says and she gives him a look. “You are my daughter, after all.”

She shifts a little at that and the apologetic smile he gives her could be David Nolan when she first met him except for the look on his face. This isn't quite the same man, she knows now. Just as loving, perhaps, but far more assertive and sure of himself. 

“Emma,” he says softly. “No matter how you feel about it, it will not change that fact for me. Nothing ever will. You are my daughter.”

“You're my father,” she says. It feels like a beginning to say that as well.

“I am,” he says, his eyes very blue as he regards her. 

“And Henry's father too,” she adds. They look at each other, then break into laughter at the same time. It is pretty funny, in a way. Grandfather and father at once, David Nolan and Prince Charming in one and a daughter the same age. 

Mary Margaret and Henry find them like that, laughing hysterically. Henry just looks confused by it while Mary Margaret simply smiles at the sight. 

II

In New York, Neal stares at the postcard from Storybrooke, Maine with growing alarm. Perhaps he always knew this day would come, that his father would find a way. 

He just never thought his father would curse a whole land with him.

A curse now broken, as the postcard tells him. 

His father is coming, Neal knows. He better be ready.


	36. Chapter Thirty-Five

II

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

II

Present day

II

It is slightly awkward to have slept with the boss, Emma finds. It is even more awkward to have slept with the boss and having been caught by her newly-found-perhaps-overcompensating parents.

It is most awkward of all to have said parents come to work with you (after having followed Henry to school, as if seeing one child off is not enough) to face said having-slept-with boss.

Oh, hell.

"You saved my life once," David says to Graham, looking every inch a father. "You saved Snow's too, she told me about it. Even so, if you hurt my daughter..."

"Understood," Graham simply says and Emma can almost see a sort of understanding pass between them.

Mary Margaret just gives Graham a look, but it still manages to be equally threatening. It makes Emma want to hide her face or just hide full stop, but at the same time she feels a strange urge to smile at it too. They care. They care enough to threaten Graham, they care enough to nearly stalk her.

"We'll be heading to the town hall," David informs Graham. "Ruby and the dwarfs have set up some posting boards there. There are a lot of people confused and trying to find each other now, we'll see what kind of system we can work out. We have to figure out why we didn't return to our land as well."

Graham nods, slipping into sheriff mode rather than deer-caught-in-the-headlights mode. "I think it's better if..."

They all pause as Mr. Gold walks in, pushing a rather nervous-looking bloke ahead of him. "This man has come to confess to the kidnapping of Mary Margaret."

David steps forward, and Emma puts a hand on his quickly. He looks at her, anger all over his features, and she silently tries to tell him to calm down. He seems to get it, nodding slightly and lowering his shoulders.

"It's true," the man says. "I kidnapped Mrs. Nolan. Apologies, your highness."

Mary Margaret just tilts her head, looking curious more than concerned and Emma thinks that the guy may have managed to abduct Mary Margaret Nolan – but this version of Mary Margaret he might have had far more trouble with.

"Who are you?" Emma asks.

"Smee, your... Royal princess saviorness."

"Emma will do," Emma says, feeling a jolt at the princess title. She's the daughter of Prince Charming to all these people. She's royalty too. Oh, hell. "Why did you take Mary Margaret?"

Smee just hangs his head. "I wanted her for myself."

David makes a low sound in his throat, but this time it's Mary Margaret who puts a hand on his. After a moment he squeezes it and they look at each other in a way that makes Emma half want to stare and half want to look away.

"You've had your reason and your confession," Gold says authoritatively. "I trust you can take it from here, sheriff?"

As he heads out, Graham has already moved to lead Smee against the cells while Mary Margaret and David whisper together in a low voice. Taking the chance while the others are busy, Emma slips out.

"Gold, wait!"

He pauses, turning with a smile that feels almost reptilian. "Miss Swan."

"Why?" she asks, striding up to him and folding her arms.

"Did you not hear him? He clearly had a thing for Mrs. Nolan – and who could blame him, for she is truly the fairest of them all - and acted inappropriately on it. Foolish, but he will pay the price for it."

"Cut the crap, Gold," she says. "He works for you. I ask again, why?"

"If you are implying I had something to do with this..."

"I am not implying, I am saying."

He looks amused. "You have nothing that would hold up in court."

"But I am right," she says and his gaze makes her even more sure of it. He did this. He did all of this.

"Perhaps your presence was desired here in Storybrooke," he suggests.

"I stayed here to find Mary Margaret," she fills in. "You wanted me to stay so I could break your curse. Why, when you were the one to cast it in the first place?"

"Certain things or curses are just means to an end," he says simply and she balls her fists.

"I should punch you in the face," she says and he just looks at her. "Do you know what you've done to them?"

"Better than you may think," he says darkly. "Miss Swan, one day you may give me that punch to the face and I won't fight it. But until then..."

She watches him walk off, feeling the urge to chase after and give him the punch then and there. But he isn't done with her, she's pretty sure. He still wants something from her. She can feel it in the way he looks at her, sizing her up.

She turns to see David and Mary Margaret standing behind her, hands folded and looking stern. They must have been out there at least for the last half of her conversation with Gold, Emma realizes, silent but backing her up.

"You better head to the town hall," she says awkwardly. "Graham and I have to take Smee's utterly useless confession."

"Yeah," David says. Mary Margaret gives him a look as if to prod him and he clears his throat. "Sno-Mary Margaret and I were wondering if you'd like to move into the apartment with us. We can make room upstairs next to Henry's room. He would love it."

"I don't know..."

"Just think about it," Mary Margaret pleads, and Emma only nods, not trusting her words.

They smile at that, clasping hands as they walk off. Emma watches them until they're gone from her sight and only then does she step inside.

II

August watches his father hang up posters; all of them carrying the likeness of Pinocchio. The child he was. The child he has gone so far from being he can't even step up and claim to be him.

He cannot face his father. Not yet.

The crowds stir a little as Snow White and Prince Charming arrive, then flock to them and almost seem to swallow them. He watches them and remembers how they were back then and how they are now. How they are still. Emma's parents. She lost out on being raised by one of them because of him.

Perhaps that is how he can redeem himself, then. Through them.

II

The crowds part before her as Regina walks into them. She can see the fear on some faces and the curiosity on the others. They all know her, of course. Know her twice over now.

She stops as she reaches David and Mary Margaret, who both look a little overwhelmed by pleas and questions.

"Regina," Mary Margaret greets her with. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to help," Regina replies and David gives her a look. "I have been a principal for 28 years. I am used to making order out of chaos."

The crowd watches Snow and Charming who watch her, then exchange a glance. As always, something silently passes between them and David finally nods.

"Very well," he says, tearing his gaze away from his wife and meeting Regina's. "Let's see what we can get done then."

II

The town line. Belle stares at it, knowing that if she takes just a few more steps she will be as she was, heartless Belle the barmaid. No memories of what she has lost. No memories of having a heart and loving. No memories of him.

Just a few more steps.

She wanted to be brave, she remembers. Belle, the Belle of that other land. She wanted to be brave so much she went willingly with the Dark One to save her people.

Just a few more steps.

The coward's solution.

She takes a few steps backwards, exhaling and shuddering. No. She may be heartless, but she can still be brave. She will be brave.

She turns to see Gold standing there silently. She didn't even realize he was there and she lifts her chin defiantly.

"Come to stop me?"

"No," he says. "Your choice, sweetheart. I simply came to see what it was."

She feels something at that. Maybe it is his heart that feels something at it, reverberating into her too. Either way, it fills her with warmth.

"Killian was sure you'd stop me," she says and Gold goes very still. He blinks slowly once, then looks at her.

"Killian?"

"Just a friend," she reassures, but it seems to have no reassuring effect at all.

"I would dearly like to meet him," Gold says pleasantly.

II

As the gathering of people becomes more organized, David slips his hand into Snow's and walks into the quiet of the town hall itself. The lights are off – there will be no meeting here today, but one is scheduled for later in the week to debate what to do – and so it's in the dark she leans into him and he holds her.

"Regina is pretty good at this," she observes after a while. He makes a non-committal sound, though truthfully he agrees. "So many separated families out there..."

"They'll find each other," he says, breathing in the scent of her as she presses herself even closer.

"Like Emma found us," she says.

"Yes," he says, thinking of their brave, caring utterly confused daughter. "Like Emma found us. In this family, we always find each other."

II

Killian looks up as Belle enters. The expression on her face is slightly odd, but he still smiles. "Hey beautiful, did you..."

He pauses as another walks in behind her. One he knows all too well, one who took all that was beautiful from him. The Dark One. The crocodile.

He can't help himself, he lunges at Rumpelstiltskin. He gets only halfway before the magic slams into him, pressing him against the wall.

"Rumpel, what are you doing?" Belle asks.

"This man stole my wife," Rumpelstiltskin says darkly.

"She came willingly and you still killed her!" Killian protests. Milah. Oh, Milah.

"My mistake. I should have killed you instead."

"Then go ahead!"

"NO!" Belle calls. Her voice pauses Rumpelstiltskin as if by magic. "Rumpel, please, not like this..."

The Dark One hesitates. Then he presses something hard into Killian's hand. It burns and is then gone. The magic holding him up lets go as well and Killian falls to the floor. It hasn't become softer since he last tried it, he observes.

When he looks up, Rumpelstiltskin is gone, but Belle is standing there. She looks conflicted, but finally steps closer to him.

"He let you live," she says, trying a smile.

"Like hell he did," Killian says and holds up his hand. The mark glimmers darkly and she watches it in horror. "He just prolonged my death."


	37. Chapter Thirty-Six

II

**Chapter Thirty-Six**

II

Present day

II

"Emma," Graham says. He's been wanting to start this conversation since he woke up with her, but first her parents walked in on them, then her parents walked in with her this morning and then they had to take a confession that sounded more rehearsed than sincere.

"Mm," Emma says. She's not looking up, staring at ceiling as if it holds some sort of mystery he can't see.

"About what happened..."

"No," she says, interrupting him. "We had sex, it was good, my parents walked in on us and that's all the 'about' we need to get into."

"I was thinking more about getting into the 'about' doing it again. Without the parents walking in on it."

She lowers her gaze to his sharply and he offers his best inviting and charming smile just as hurried footsteps approach and Belle bursts into the room.

"You have to stop this!" Belle says breathlessly. "Mr. Gold. He's done something to Killian, marked him with something. You have to save him."

"What?" Emma says dumbly. "Gold did what to who?"

"Marked me for death," Killian says, stepping in as well. The man from the bar, Emma remembers. He holds up a hand and on his palm, a strange symbol is marked in flesh. "Very charming welcome from the Mayor."

"Hell," Emma says and Graham's hope for a quiet day at work dies a painful, crushing death.

II

"We could make a home here," Snow says softly. She tilts her head up to look at him. "Here in Storybrooke with Henry and Emma. We could get a bigger house."

"Here?" he repeats. He sounds confused. "Don't you want to go back? To our kingdom?"

"We don't even know if it exists still," she points out. "The curse broke and we're still here. Maybe there is nothing to go back to."

"Maybe there is," he says hopefully, looking distant. Charming. Always the optimist. She loves it in him but sometimes, sometimes it also pains her just a little.

"Yeah," she just says, closing her eyes as he lifts his hands to cup her face and kiss her.

II

"Please, you have to save him," Belle says again. The others look at her, perhaps surprised by her passion. Truthfully, she's a little surprised herself. But Belle, the Belle she remembers being, that Belle would care.

"Didn't know you cared so much, darling," Killian says. She shoots him a glare.

"I am trying to save _him_. If he kills you..." she trails off, looking at Emma and Graham again. "Please."

"I'm not going to let anyone kill anyone on my watch," Emma says, sounding determined. She crosses her arms while Graham puts his hands on his hips. "Magically or otherwise."

"If magic is the means, perhaps magic is the way to prevent it," Graham suggests. "Maybe Regina will know what to do."

"If it involves crossing Gold, she might even be interested in doing it," Emma replies, already going for the phone.

II

Henry draws the castle, every now and then pausing to consult the book. It's mom and dad's castle; a proper fairytale castle and looking like it. He can already imagine living in it.

Him and Emma and mom and dad and all of them. Having adventures, having their happy ending. He'll get to be a prince and ride horses and sword-fight and be a hero.

Most important of all, he'll have his whole family there. They're together now.

Henry draws on, a future in pencil lines and a child's imagination.

II

Regina can see trouble coming a mile away, or in this case a street away as Emma, Graham, Belle and Hook hurry towards her.

"What does this mean?" Emma asks without preamble, holding out Hook's hand. Regina makes a slight sound as she recognizes the mark.

"I warned you to stay below deck," she tells Hook, who rolls his eyes slightly. "Gold did this, I gather."

"Yes," Graham says. "What did he do, Regina?"

"Marked our friend the pirate to have his soul sucked by a wraith," she says brightly. "It should arrive by nightfall, I expect."

"What can we do to stop it?" Emma asks. She looks quite determined, Regina notes. That Charming sense of honor again.

"It can't be killed," Regina says thoughtfully. "But perhaps it could be displaced."

"What do you mean?" Graham asks, looking at her skeptically.

"There is an object that can transport people between worlds," Regina says thoughtfully. "Jefferson's hat. If I was to venture a guess, I would say Gold has it."

"I'll get it," Belle interjects. Regina gives her a thoughtful look. Yes. Perhaps.

"Bring it here as fast as you can. The rest of you – you may wish to arm yourself. Oh, and Miss Swan? Your parents are inside making out. You might wish to go in there, avert your eyes and give them the good news that they'll soon be fighting a wraith."

II

David hums a little at the back of his throat as Snow links her hands behind his neck and kisses him again. His hands support her back as she tip-toes to deepen the kiss, and the hum turns to a moan.

"David? Mary Margaret?" their daughter calls into the room. They both go still, then carefully untangle lips, tongues and hands.

"Yeah?" David asks, his voice a little hoarse. He clears it. "Yeah?"

"We've got a soul-sucking wraith to deal with," Emma informs them. She's deliberately not coming in, Snow realizes.

"Be right there!" he calls back. Snow chuckles a little as he brushes his thumb across her cheek.

"I think I know where Henry inherited his timing," he observes drily.

"Mmm-mmm," she agrees. "And I know where our daughter inherited her tendency to find trouble."

II

Belle marches into his office and Gold barely has time to look up before she's leaning across his desk and into his personal space. "Give me Jefferson's hat."

"What?" he asks. The request is clear enough, but from her it is a little surprising.

"Jefferson's hat," she repeats.

"What do you need it for?"

"You took my heart," she says without flinching. "Now I have yours. Everything you do that darkens it, darkens mine as well. I am going to save us both. Give me the hat. Unless you can call off the wraith."

"No. Once summoned it will not stop until it has its victim's soul."

"Then give me the hat."

He nods, walking over to the wall. She watches him as he opens the hidden compartment and then the safe and pulls out the hat.

"Belle, all magic has a price," he says softly.

"I am ready to pay it," she says. Impulsively, she leans forward and kisses him. She can feel his heart in her chest leap a little as she does.

"Yes," he says, touching her cheek tenderly. "But are you ready for others to?"

II

"Red will look after Henry while we deal with this," David says, hanging up. Snow nods at him a bit absentmindedly as she holds the brooms they've found, watching Graham hover around Emma. He follows her gaze and narrows his eyes a little.

"Hey," Snow says, putting a hand on his arm. He lowers his gaze to hers, and softens as he looks at her.

"I know," he says. "She's not a baby anymore, is she?"

"No," Snow says sadly. She must be remembering, as he is, the last glimpse of baby Emma they ever had.

"I got it!" Belle calls, hurrying inside with the hat in her hands.

"I could kiss you," Killian offers. Emma gives him a look. "What, I could kiss you too."

"I could cut your other hand off," David interjects. "How does this work, Regina?"

"It will open a portal to our land. If it still exists, the wraith will be trapped there. If it doesn't, then sending the wraith there will be as good as killing it."

"Either way sounds good to me," Killian says merrily.

"Shut up before I regret helping you," Emma says irritably. "So, we wait for the wraith, we open portal, we send it through, and we go home for dinner. Sounds good to everyone?"

"Sure," David says, looking at the window and what is coming through it. "Except we don't have to wait."

II

Graham reaches for the gun as the wraith more or less drifts into the room through the window. It occurs to him that it might not be the best weapon against a magic creature, especially as Regina throws a fireball from her hands. The wraith hisses, but stays on course.

"Is this where I beg?" Killian jokes, but there is a nervous edge to it. Good, Graham thinks.

David and Snow lift their now burning brooms, trying to ward the wraith off while Belle sets the hat down carefully. Regina kneels down, her eyes gleaming in the dark for a moment.

The hats spins and spins and purple whirls into the room.

"Snow!" David calls in distress and Graham looks up to see that the wraith has tossed her. She slides across the room, hitting a wall with a thump The wraith is still descending on Killian and Graham fires at it, drawing its attention for a moment.

That moment is enough as David slams his broom into it from behind. It hisses and screams, going backwards and backwards as David almost seems to herd it with fire towards the hat.

"Get clear!" he calls, shoving the broom forward again. The wraith backs up just that extra inch – into the portal. The sound it makes is inhuman, making Graham clutch his ears. For less than a second it seems all is going as planned.

Then the wraith stretches out a hand and clutches David. The broom falls from his grasp as he is pulled into the portal also.

"DAVID!" Snow screams. Emma makes a noise also. They both dive for David at the same time as the hat tips over and swallows them all in a purple haze.

Graham doesn't think, merely leaps as Regina, Belle and Killian stare. This is Emma, who is _Emma_ ,and Snow and Charming who he gladly risked his life for such a long time ago and yet it feels like yesterday. He can't not reach for them.

The portal closes as he falls and Graham crashes to the floor, crushing the hat under him.


	38. Chapter Thirty-Seven

II

**Chapter Thirty-Seven**

II

Present day

II

For a moment, everyone is absolutely still and the room suddenly seems deadly silent. Regina can only stare, trying to process what has happened. David. Snow. Emma. All of them gone the same way as the wraith. Very, very slowly Graham pulls himself up and looks at the hat. It is singed by fire from the broom David dropped, crushed by Graham's fall and the bottom has come loose as well.

Not much of a portal anymore, Regina thinks dimly. She isn't even sure if it can be fixed.

"No," Belle murmurs. She takes a step forward. "Where did they go?"

"Our land," Regina says, pushing herself up from the floor. "If it still exists."

"How do we get there?" Graham asks. He holds out the hat like a sword pointing at her. "You have magic. Fix it!"

"Not that kind of magic!" she replies sharply. "I was never a portal jumper. Jefferson might be able to help. It is his hat."

"Jefferson," Graham mumbles. He stares at the hat in his hands, digging his fingers a little into the cloth of it.

"Is there no other way?" Belle asks, almost pleading. She probably didn't envision her little rescue operation turning out like this, Regina figures.

"I used the last bean to come to this land," Hook says and for once, Regina believes him. He sounds sincerely sorry. "Regrettably, I do not have another, or, upon my honor, I would help retrieve them."

"You have honor?" Graham says, looking at Hook with dark eyes.

"Just because my honor differs from yours doesn't mean I have none," Hook shoots back. The two eye each other like stags wanting to butt horns or a huntsman and a pirate wanting to duel.

"This can wait," Regina cuts in. "The wraith is gone. Hook, you are safe for now. I suggest you take yourself somewhere where Gold won't get the urge to murder you for a few days. Graham, track down Jefferson and see what he knows about the hat's magic. Belle, see if you can get Gold to be of any assistance to us. He may listen to you."

"And what are you going to do?" Graham asks pointedly.

She sighs, closing her eyes for a moment. "I have to tell Henry about this."

II

Gold is waiting up for her, Belle finds. He stands by the door to her room at Granny's, the shadows clinging to him as if they don't want to let go. He looks up as she walks closer, but he waits for her to approach him.

"They fell through the hat," she says tonelessly. "The Nolans, Emma and the wraith."

His jaw sets and she can see he thinks it would have been better to simply let Killian die. That's what Gold intended to happen, after all. He let her attempt to stop it not because he was rethinking his choice, but because he was respecting her choice.

She knows this; she can feel it in the heart that beats for her but isn't hers. She's started to feel it more and more since the curse broke, or perhaps it is magic being here that did it. Either way, she feels his heart. She remembers hers. Between the two, she doesn't feel quite heartless anymore.

(Maybe the curse being broken made him feel less heartless, and thus her too.)

"Our land, does it still exist?" she asks him. If he says no, she will have to face that she caused the death of three people.

"Yes," he says and she exhales. "The curse ravaged the land, but it is still there."

She nods. It exists. They're still alive.

"We have to find a way to get them back," she says.

"We?" he asks, looking at her. She meets his gaze evenly, holding it. Holding him.

"We. You owe them that."

'You owe them much more, more than can ever be repaid,' she doesn't say, but he knows. She can feel him know it.

"We," he agrees, holding out his hand as if they've struck a deal. She takes it and he turns her hand over, pressing a kiss against it. "You and me, Belle."

II

Killian stands outside the town hall for a while after the others have hurried off on their various tasks. Stars gaze down at him and he feels as if their light simply passes through him as if he's hollow.

He didn't want this. He wanted revenge, has wanted it for 300 years. He's lived for it for 300 years. True, he may not have cared much about anything apart from his revenge, but he didn't want this.

What is he beyond his search for revenge?

Maybe it's time to find out.

II

_Storybrooke, the past_

II

_"Tell me a story," Henry whispers. It is morning and he has crawled in with mom and dad again, as he sometimes does. Dad has pulled up the blankets to cocoon them or maybe make a wall around them. Even the sunlight is kept out, heating the blankets instead._

_Henry feels safe in here. He lies on his side watching mom watch him. Dad is snuggled into her back, his face by her shoulder and looking at Henry with sleepy but smiling eyes. Their hands are linked in front of mom and Henry has put his hand on top of theirs._

_"Another one?" mom asks. Her eyes close for a moment as if she's almost falling asleep again. Sleeping beauty, perhaps. He remembers that story. Mom must surely be just as beautiful, as he told her and dad disagreed. He thought mom was prettier._

_"Another one," he says._

_"Do you think you'll ever tell us a story?" dad asks. "I think a Henry story would be a great story, better than any stories we know."_

_Henry thinks about that as dad kisses mom's shoulder, murmuring something into her ear Henry can't hear but that makes mom smile._

_"I don't know a Henry story yet," Henry finally says. Maybe tomorrow he can ask Regina if she has any stories he hasn't read yet. She has so many books._

_"That's okay," mom says, opening her eyes and looking at him. "You've got a long time to find the right stories for you, honey."_

II

Henry is sitting on the bed with his legs crossed as Regina walks in. She pauses for a moment to regard him. Henry Nolan. They named him after her father. They didn't remember who she truly was back then, of course, but still.

"Hey Henry," she says. She sits down on the bed next to him as he looks up at her.

"What's wrong?" he asks. He's a smart kid, she remembers. He picked up on something being wrong with this town, he realized the truth about the curse from her book and now he knows something is wrong from how everyone is acting around him.

"It's about your parents and Emma," she says softly.

"Are they okay?" he asks, biting his lip.

"They fell into a portal that leads to our land," Regina says. Henry looks ready to cry and she puts a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "We'll find a way to bring them back, Henry."

"How do you know that?"

"I don't know," she admits and his face falls a little. "But do you remember in the book, what Snow and Charming always told each other?"

"That they would find each other," he says. "Emma too, she found them."

"Yes," she agrees. "In your family, you find each other, Henry. So if you help me, we'll find them."

He nods eagerly. "Like in a fairytale."

She smiles faintly, looking at the absolute faith in his eyes. He's only ever read one side of them, doesn't know what it's like to be on the other side. She does but maybe, just maybe, she can come back from it.

Her story. She's still writing it.

"Yeah, Henry," she says. "Like in a fairytale."

II

FTL, the present

II

This isn't a fairytale, Emma thinks. This is some sort of nightmare.

Her body hurts, her mouth tastes like ash and she's still clutching onto David's leg. He's not moving from what she can see, his face against the ground. They're in a forest, she can tell. As she lifts her head she can see Mary Margaret also lying across the forest floor. She too, is holding onto David.

This definitely isn't Maine. The falling-into-a-magical-hat told Emma that much to begin with, but so does the unfamiliar foliage.

The wraith is nowhere in sight. There's that, at least.

"David," Emma says, pulling herself over. She touches his face gently and he groans, telling her he is alive at least. "David?"

"Emma," Mary Margaret says, lifting her head. She looks dazed, and has a bruise on her cheek and a tear in her sweater.

"I'm here," Emma replies. "I don't know if David is hurt."

Mary Margaret scoots over hurriedly, putting a hand on David's cheek. "David? Charming?"

He groans again, then finally opens his eyes. It takes him a moment to focus. "Snow. Emma."

She's still touching him, Emma realizes. She pulls her hands away, slightly abashed, while Mary Margaret lowers her hand to his shoulder as he pulls himself up. Emma stands up too, and Mary Margaret, all three of them looking around.

"Any idea where we are?" Emma asks, taking in the surroundings. Heavy forest, clear night sky and no signs of life.

"Yeah," David says. He sounds a little choked up, taking Mary Margaret's hand and squeezing it. "I think this is the Enchanted Forest. Welcome home, Emma."

Not quite the homecoming she had in mind, Emma thinks.


	39. Chapter Thirty-Eight

II

**Chapter Thirty-Eight**

II

FTL, the present

II

"The land wasn't destroyed," Snow says, taking in the forest around them. Her body seems to hum at the familiarity of it, the sense of home. She squeezes David's hand and feels him squeeze back.

"We're in your land?" Emma asks, but without much happiness at the prospect.

"Yeah," David says. "Our land. This where you're from as well, Emma."

"So how do we get home?" Emma asks and she clearly means Storybrooke. It is home to her in a way this land isn't, Snow knows. But the Enchanted Forest is home to Snow and she knows to David also.

But there is Henry. Henry is back in Storybrooke. Their son and Emma's son, a very important part of their family. This won't be any kind of home without him, not truly. As surely as it wouldn't be without Emma. Or without David. She needs her whole family for her home or it would be like missing a wall.

Snow lifts her gaze to Charming, and she can see in his gaze he's thinking the same thing. They have to find a way back. This is not a homecoming, not yet.

"I don't know," David says. "It took a whole curse to get all of us to Storybrooke in the first place. We'll have to find another way. I'm open to suggestions here."

"No," Snow says and he looks at her quizzically. "Not all of us. The curse didn't take all of us. It didn't take Emma."

"The wardrobe," Charming breathes, looking at Emma intently. Emma shifts a little but holds his gaze. "But it only took one."

"It's a start," Snow says lightly, not saying what she's really thinking. David looks at her again, nodding slightly as he takes in the expression on her face. He knows what she's thinking.

So does Emma, apparently. "Oh no. You two are not sending me through alone again no matter what. I'm not doing that to Henry. I'm not taking his parents from him."

"Emma..." Snow begins, but Emma holds out a hand.

"No. We all go back together or we won't go back at all. That's the only way."

Charming smiles a tad distantly and almost sadly. Snow wonders if he is thinking of their baby grown to a woman making her own decisions, as she is. And they missed it all.

"Together," he agrees, holding out a hand to Emma. She looks at it for a moment before very hesitantly taking it.

Together, Snow thinks, and feels a strange joy at it.

II

Jefferson looks up with dark eyes as Graham enters, but makes no other move. For a moment they regard each other and Graham finds himself wondering what it would be like to live 28 years frozen in time, the only one aware of it.

"She broke the curse then," Jefferson finally says.

"No thanks to you," Graham says sharply. 28 years of madness does not excuse going after Emma as far as he is concerned.

Jefferson makes a noise, but offers no excuse or apologies. Instead he just waits, and Graham finally pulls out the ruined hat.

"What can you tell me about this?"

Jefferson touches it lightly. "It's broken."

"Emma and the Nolans went through it. Can you get them back?"

"I can't get it to work again."

"If we find someone else who can fix it, can you make it work?"

Jefferson closes his eyes for a moment, as if pained. "Maybe."

"I'll lift the charges if you do," Graham promises.

"I don't care about that."

"What do you care about then?"

"My daughter," Jefferson says.

Parents and children, Graham thinks. Why does it always come back to that?

II

The knock on her door is soft and Regina tears herself away from the boxes she's shifting into the basement to make room for her father. He will be coming home from hospital soon now that his heart is strong again.

To her surprise, it is Ruby, the dwarfs and Henry on the other side. Henry looks a little desolate, Ruby looks hesitant and the dwarfs just look as fierce as they can make themselves be.

"I'm sorry," Ruby says. "Charming asked me to look after Henry, but he wants to stay with you."

"Me?" Regina says in surprise. He looks up at her. He's got a backpack with him, she notices.

"I don't know Ruby," he says quietly and Ruby looks a little sad. If not for the curse she would be like an aunt to any child of Snow and Charming's, Regina is pretty sure. But now Ruby is simply a stranger to their child. "I know you. And we have to work on Operation Tiger together."

"What's Operation Tiger?" Regina asks, remembering Operation Shark – when Henry decided to sneak in and sleep over at the hospital in her father's room because he felt the old man was lonely. Snow and Charming had been worried sick. But when they had finally figured out where he was and found him sharing cookies with her father, they had simply slept over as well. Her father still reminisces about it with affection.

Henry and his fiercely named plans for such simple, loving things.

"It's getting mom, dad and mom Emma back."

"Henry..." she starts, not even sure what she's trying to say.

"Please," he says.

"I wouldn't ask, but..." Ruby trails off. "Snow and Charming trusted you at the town hall. Henry trusts you. So can he stay with you."

"And if you don't look after him, that's seven pick-axes coming after you," Leroy says aggressively. The other six dwarfs nod with varying degrees of fierceness.

"Please," Henry repeats. "I want to stay with you. I know you."

She breathes, the emotion so strong it is good yet also almost painful. He wants to stay with her. He knows who she was and he still wants to stay with her. He believes people can change.

"Sure, Henry," she says gently. "You can stay with me until we get your parents and Emma back."

Ruby exhales, clearly still questioning the wisdom in this. "You look after him, Regina, or..."

"Yes," Regina says simply, nodding at the unspoken threat. She can understand where it's coming from but it still grates a little. Perhaps one day they will no longer be felt necessary. "Come on in, Henry. Did you eat already?"

"Ruby made me a hamburger," he says, following her inside. "Thanks, Ruby."

"You're welcome, Henry," Ruby says and with one last look, she and the dwarfs head off and Regina closes the door.

II

"This isn't hamburger," Emma observes, holding up the meat doubtfully. David has to bite back a smile as he watches his daughter through the flames.

They've set up camp for the night as the forest is dark around them. Luckily Snow can set traps and managed to catch them some small game. He found enough sharp rocks to be able to skin their catch and with a little work and a lot of cursing from Emma they've set a fire to roast their food and keep warm.

"Fast food hasn't quite caught on in the Enchanted Forest," he jokes.

Emma makes a face as she bites into the meat, but she does eat. He suspects she may have to get used to it; they will have to hunt for their own food while here. When they reach the castle they might find weapons to help with that. It also helps Snow is adept at living in the forest. (If they run across sheep here, he'll be in his element.)

He looks over at her, wondering if this is reminding her of that time. Her life in the forest while hiding from Regina is perhaps a time she would want to forget, but it is also when they met.

He shifts his gaze to Emma. It pains him a little that this is how she will see their land, the land he and Snow wanted to bring her into. She will only see it after the curse, not the splendor it once had. The home it was.

"We'd better keep close during the night and preserve body heat," he suggests. He remembers cold nights in this land even in spring and the sheep that would often perish in them.

Snow nods and scoots over, lying down next to him. Emma gives them both a wary look, but eventually comes over and lies down on the other side of him. Snow puts her head on his chest readily enough while he carefully eases an arm around Emma.

"I'm not much of an outdoor person," Emma says into the night.

"Neither was I," Snow says softly. He smiles down at her. "I learned."

"I was a farmer," he says and Emma looks up in surprise at him. "A shepherd, in fact."

"I thought you were a prince?"

"Not born one," he says and Snow draws a hand across his chest affectionately. "I learned."

"Oh," Emma says. She lowers her head again, this time resting it against his shoulder. He feels a sharp twinge of something and he has to swallow a couple of times before he trusts his own voice.

"I had a twin I never knew," he says and Emma and Snow listen as he goes on, telling his story. Emma listens while Snow interjects a teasing remark or affectionate comment now and then.

It's almost like a bedtime story, he reflects; he finally got to tell his daughter one.


	40. Chapter Thirty-Nine

II

**Chapter Thirty-Nine**

II

Storybrooke, present day

II

Henry wakes to the smell of breakfast and for a moment, it feels like home. Mom and dad made breakfast for him all the time and he would wake to the smell of it and their laughter. Sometimes he'd walk in on them kissing in the kitchen while the pancakes got a little burned, but he never minded much. That was just how mom and dad were.

But this isn't home and it doesn't smell like pancakes. He opens his eyes to see he's in a very white room in a king-size bed. He's in Regina's house, he remembers. He begged Ruby to bring him here.

And mom and dad and Emma are missing. The memory cuts into him, making him sniffle a little. Mom and dad and mom again. His family.

He's going to get them back.

He gets dressed and pads down to the kitchen to see Regina making what seems to be a king-size breakfast too. There is bacon and toast and cookies and cereal and waffles and sausages and all sorts of jam.

"Henry!" she says as she notices him. She smiles hesitantly. "I didn't know what you liked so I made a little of everything."

Henry thinks of dad's pancakes, the best thing in the world. But dad isn't here and pancakes without dad making them would be wrong.

"I don't know. What do you like?" Henry asks instead and Regina's smile grows more sure.

"I'll show you," she promises, and she does.

II

_Storybrooke, the past_

II

_"You're doing it again," Mary Margaret says from behind him._

_"Busted," David agrees as she comes to stand next to him, putting an arm around his waist and leaning against his side. Together, they watch their baby sleep in his crib. Little Henry. Their child, the child they have wanted for so long and felt was missing for so long._

_Adopted, but that doesn't matter. They'll love him like their own because he will be their own child._

_"You need your own sleep," she points out, but her voice holds no real reproach._

_"Everything I need I have right here," he counters. "You and our child. I could ask for nothing more than my family."_

_She tip-toes and kisses him tenderly, putting her hands on his chest as his hands go to her waist. He can feel her echoing his sentiment in the touch of her lips as the kiss goes from tender to possessive, that she too has everything she needs right here._

_He rests his forehead against hers as they break the kiss, both breathing a touch more heavily._

_"Why do you come here every night?" she asks._

_"To see that he's still here," he says. He struggles to put into words this feeling looking at a crib always gives him. "I... I don't know, I just worry that one day I will wake up and our child will be lost to us."_

_"Never," Mary Margaret swears fiercely. Surprisingly fiercely, but then, he feels the same._

_"Never," he agrees, throwing one last look at a sleeping Henry. Their child. Still there, not lost at all. Then he takes Mary Margaret's hand and lets her lead him back to their bed._

II

FTL, present day

II

Coffee.

That's the first thing that comes to Emma's mind as her senses slowly start informing her she's awake. She really wants coffee. Coffee is good. Coffee is morning. Coffee is true love.

Only, she realizes as she opens her eyes, coffee is very unlikely to be available here. No love for her.

She's in another land, she remembers. She fell through a portal. Which is why she is currently in a forest with a sunrise on the horizon and is curled up against David.

David. Her father, as strange as that notion still feels. He's put his arm around her during the night and she's lowered her head to his chest at some point. Mary Margaret is sleeping in a similar position with her forehead pressed against his chin.

Her parents. It fills her with a strange emotion to watch them like this. Sleeping, they look so young and almost innocent. It reminds her that though they've raised Henry for ten years, they haven't aged. They're no older than her and that makes her feel terribly old.

Her parents have been raising her son. Henry. The most precious thing in her life. Precious enough that she gave him up. She's happy he was raised so well, she really is, but it still fills her with the tiniest bit of envy. He was literally raised as she should have been.

She allows herself to close her eyes for a minute just to listen to her parents breathe next to her. Such a little thing, to be near your parents, yet such a great thing when it's been denied you your whole life.

Right. They have a land to get back to, Henry to get back to. She pushes herself up, David making a noise as she does. It's almost like a protest. A moment later he opens his eyes and focuses on her.

"Emma," he says thickly. He blinks, taking in their surroundings. "Oh. Right."

Oh is about right, Emma thinks.

"Hey," she replies. "Maybe we should get going?"

He nods, making Mary Margaret make a soft noise of protest. He looks down at her.

"Snow," he murmurs affectionately, kissing Mary Margaret's forehead. It makes Emma want to look away and see more at the same time. After a moment, Mary Margaret opens her eyes and blinks.

"Good morning," Emma says awkwardly. Mary Margaret rises and smiles, as if looking at Emma is enough to make her happy. David too, gets on his feet and looks around. "Any ideas where we are?"

"Yeah," Mary Margaret says. She looks a touch distant, as if she's listening to some faraway noise, but all Emma can hear is birds. "We seem to be about a day's walk from our palace."

David nods, but his gaze is on Emma. "I guess you're going to tell us you're not much of a hiker either?"

"Is there much to it beyond putting one foot in front of the other?" Emma asks sarcastically.

"That is indeed the gist," David replies with an easy smile. "You'll be a natural."

II

Storybrooke, present day

II

There is a knock on the door and August hobbles over to open it, regretting the action the moment he sees who it is.

Rumpelstiltskin. Of course. Nothing much probably happens in this town without his knowledge. Of course a stranger coming to visit would draw attention.

"Hello, dearie. How's the leg?"

August grits his teeth. "What do you want?"

"I want you to tell my son he has a son," Rumpelstiltskin says, eyes glinting. "You have a way of contacting him, I'm sure."

"I'm not helping you anymore," August says and the pain in his leg seems to lessen for a moment.

"It wouldn't be helping me. Henry needs his father. Haven't you heard? Emma and her parents were sucked into a portal to our land last night. They may never return. Would you leave poor Henry without any family at all?"

August stares, trying to absorb the information. Emma and her parents gone? It's easy enough to verify so Rumpelstiltskin must be telling the truth.

"You set this up," he says. Rumpelstiltskin merely smiles.

"No, dearie. I did not. The future is a puzzle. Even I cannot foresee it all. People make choices and choices matter. It is time to make yours, _Pinocchio_."

Emma, August thinks faintly. He made the wrong choice concerning her a long time ago. What's the right one now?

II

"What do you think?" Graham asks. Mother Superior gives the hat another look while Jefferson merely watches. "Can fairy dust repair it?"

"Maybe," Mother Superior says. Graham remembers her as the blue fairy and her current human size is a little strange. "But we don't have fairy dust."

"I spoke to Leroy. The dwarfs are willing to mine for it. They want Snow, Charming and Emma back as much as we do."

"If they find it, I may be able to get it working again," she concedes. She gives Jefferson a stern glance. "Will he be able to use it to get them back?"

"He will," Graham says, giving Jefferson a long, hard look. "He has a daughter in this town I will help him find. He knows the importance of family."

"They're family to you?" Jefferson asks. His eyes are dark as Graham meets his gaze.

"Snow and Charming got my heart back," Graham says. And Emma may have started to claim that very heart, he doesn't say but does feel.

II

FTL, the present

II

Snow watches her daughter walk next to them without complaint, though in shoes definitely not made for forest hiking. Then again, her own shoes are not all that fit for it either.

David has a steadying hand in hers as they walk, squeezing lightly every now and then. He is in a strange way happy, she knows, as she is. Happy to be in their own land even if they plan to leave it again to return to Henry.

But still, this is _their_ kingdom. They fought for this land, they learned to rule this land, they fell in love with this land while loving each other.

"What's that?" Emma asks breathlessly as she looks ahead. Snow follows her gaze and squeezes Charming's hand.

"That's home," David says softly. "That's our castle."

Their castle indeed. It's crumbled a little and has darkened somehow, Snow notes as she watches it. Or perhaps it's the gloom of the fading daylight, though the curse did rip through it like everything else.

"Did you leave the lights on?" Emma asks, lifting a hand and pointing to one tower. A light flickers faintly there, Snow notices as she follows where Emma is pointing. "Or do you have company?"

"I think we have company," Snow says distantly.


	41. Chapter Forty

II

**Chapter Forty**

II

Storybrooke, the present

II

For once, Granny's Diner has a closed sign up. It is enough to make Belle pause, but then she fishes out the key Ruby gave her. Granny assured her this was where Ruby would be, after all. Maybe something is wrong.

"Hello?" she calls as she unlocks and opens the door. There is no answer, but she can make out a shape at a booth in the dark. "Ruby?"

It is indeed Ruby, Belle sees when she walks closer. It's Ruby crying, silent sobs that make her body tremble a little.

Without a word, Belle sits down across from her and holds out a hand. Ruby takes it hesitantly and lifts her gaze.

"I'm sorry," Belle offers. "For whatever is making you cry, I'm sorry."

"I ate my boyfriend," Ruby says tonelessly. "Back in our land. I know it was 28 years ago, but with the memories coming back... Then Henry would rather stay with the Evil Queen than me, my best friends in the world fall into a portal and I think I might start turning into a wolf again next full moon."

"I fell in love with the Dark One who ripped out my heart and gave me part of his own," Belle offers.

Ruby makes a noise that may be a laugh. "We're all kind of screwed up, aren't we?"

"Yeah," Belle agrees. "I think we just have to make the best of it."

Ruby draws a long, ragged breath. "Yeah."

"I came to see you about that," Belle continues. "I want to help bringing Snow, Charming and Emma back."

Ruby looks at her curiously. "Why?"

"Because it's something a person with a good heart would do," Belle says. She's got her heart beating inside her now. If she can make that heart do good, maybe she can make him good through it too.

Making the best of it, after all.

II

FTL, the present

II

The curse has ripped through the castle, the castle David came to consider home eventually. He wasn't raised there, it wasn't that. It became home because Snow was there with him, because Emma was meant to be raised there, because home is an emotion that gets attached to a place.

Now his home is damaged, but not ruined. It can be rebuilt and the desire to do so is already rising in him.

Snow looks far sadder as she takes in the sight. Or maybe she is still worried about the flickering light they saw in one of the towers. It seems gone now, but they're still approaching carefully and quietly. The curse was meant to take everyone. That it perhaps didn't is unsettling.

Emma looks tense. David keeps wanting to reach for her hand to offer the sort of silent support through skin he and Snow so often give each other, but he doesn't want to push it either. (Snow will be doing plenty of that in any case; he knows her, and loves her for that too.)

The last rays of sun vanish as they slip into the courtyard. In the faint remaining light, David leads them into the armory. Swords still lay scattered where they have been dropped as the people carrying them were claimed by the curse. He picks up a few he deems still fit for use while Snow finds a bow and arrows. Emma just stares for a moment as he holds out a sword to her. Then she takes it, and he can't help but smile a touch sadly.

He imagined teaching their child how to use a sword in this very castle ever since Snow told him she was pregnant. Now here he is; giving his daughter a sword in their castle, but it's decades too late.

"Let's see who our guest is," he says in a low voice, and Snow nods. She readies an arrow as they climb the stairs quietly. Emma keeps her sword at her side, but he can see the tension in her body.

As they draw near, they hear faint noises. It may be shuffled footsteps. Snow gives him a look and David nods. He lifts his sword and she lifts her bow, arrow at the ready. Emma catches on as well, holding up the sword.

Together, they push into the room and David has a brief moment to feel a strange sort of pride at being married to Snow White and being the father of Emma Swan.

Then he sees who the person in the tower is.

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_He's packing, Snow sees the moment she enters the tent. He is leaving._

_"You don't have to leave," Snow says and Lancelot turns to look at her. He smiles apologetically._

_"I do. You have been very welcoming in spite of everything, but it has only made me realize I have my honor to restore."_

_"You can do that here," she offers. "Help us retake the kingdom from King George. He is a cruel king, as you have seen. He allied with Regina, he would ally with far worse just for his revenge."_

_Lancelot shakes his head, as she somehow knew he would. Men and their honor. "This is your fight, not mine. I have given your man all the information on King George's army and tactics I have. It will help. The rest you will do yourself, I have no doubt."_

_She nods, thinking of Charming's determination that is only matched by her own. They will._

_"You will be welcome in our kingdom," she tells him sincerely. "If you ever need anything, come to us."_

_"Thank you," he says, bowing his head. "May your life be everything you hope for. For yourself, for your true love and for your girl."_

_"Thank you," she says, giving him a sincere smile. "Until we meet again, Lancelot."_

II

FTL, present day

II

"You!" David says darkly. He clutches his sword harder, fighting the urge to strike then and there.

"Welcome home," King George says equally darkly. "Still have your true love with you, I see. Who's the other girl?"

"Woman," Emma corrects before David can say anything. "I'm Emma."

"Emma," George says thoughtfully. His eyes gleam with something David doesn't like at all. "Wasn't that to be your daughter's name? That daughter you should never have had?"

"We had her," Snow says forcefully, and David throws a look at his wife. There is something in the tone of her voice that throws him a little. It's something almost personal and Snow's expression just furthers the impression.

"So you did," George agrees. "Does he know you almost didn't?"

"What?" David asks. He looks at Snow, and then at George again. Snow looks pained, closing her eyes for a moment.

"I cursed her to never bear children," George says almost gleefully. He gives Emma a dark look. "It appears the curse was broken."

"Who the hell is this guy?" Emma says loudly. "Can I punch him in the face?"

"She has your tact," George observes to David, who feels a very strong urge to let Emma throw that punch and then throw one of his own. "I am the rightful King of this kingdom, Emma. I offered your father everything and he turned me down for the love of your mother."

"Oh, you're that guy," Emma says brightly. "The asshole who wants to ruin everyone else's happiness."

"Definitely got your tact, _son_ ," George says.

"Shut up," David says sharply, trying to push away all the questions currently buzzing in his head to focus on the more pressing ones. "How the hell did you escape Rumpelstiltskin's curse?"

"An ally," George simply says. "For 28 years I've been waiting."

"Waiting for what?" David asks, stepping in front of Snow and Emma to shield them as much as possible with his own body. He doesn't like the sound of George's voice at all.

"This," George says and drops the potion. It breaks against the floor and then the floor seems to come crashing up against David as he falls.

A sleeping draught or spell of some kind, he has time to think.

Then everything goes black.

II

Storybrooke, present day

II

Flames. Henry is dreaming of flames. They lick at him, the roar of them is overwhelming. The noise hurts, the heat hurts and he wants to wake up but can't.

Just a nightmare, he tries to tell himself. Just a nightmare. It has to be. He's safe in Regina's house. She made him lasagna for dinner and read him mom and dad's fairytale as a bedtime story and even did her Evil Queen voice to make it more real.

This feels real too. Too real and his hand hurts from where the flames have touched it. He just wants to wake up.

As he stands among the flames he notices a figure across from him. Someone else is here. He isn't alone. With the flames in the way he can't reach whoever it is, but he can use his voice.

"Hello?!" he calls. The figure turns sharply, staring at him and he realizes who it is. Someone he knows all too well. "Mom?!"

It is.


	42. Chapter Forty-One

II

**Chapter Forty-One**

II

FTL, the present

II

"Henry!" Snow calls out, breathing hard. It takes her a moment to realize she's not in a flaming room, there is no Henry and instead she's on a floor somewhere. Her hands are chained, she realizes as she tries to move. Lifting her head she sees they're in the nursery and Emma and David are lying a few feet away. Neither is moving.

"Charming!" she says intently. He too, has his hands chained and she assumes Emma has as well. They're in some sort of trouble again, clearly. Yet again, more like, actually.

King George, she remembers. He dropped something to make them all pass out. There are no signs of their weapons, but not of him either. He mentioned an ally, so they may have more than just him to worry about.

Carefully, she moves across the floor using her elbows. As she reaches David, she can see Emma more clearly too. Their daughter does indeed have her hands chained as well and isn't moving. But her chest rises and falls so she is alive.

"Charming!" Snow says again, then tries the only remedy she can think of to wake him up. She kisses him. (It works on Sunday mornings, after all, though all too often they still don't get out of bed until much later.) One, twice and on the third he finally kisses her back.

"Mary Margaret," he murmurs against her lips, then blinks and focuses as she pulls back. "Snow. Emma! Where is Emma?"

"Next to you," she replies and he rolls over immediately. She watches him as he touches their daughter's face gently until Emma's eyelids flutter and she opens her eyes.

"What happened?" Emma says groggily. Snow feels a strong urge to just hug her daughter close and never let go, but she bites it down. She couldn't anyway, not with her hands in chains.

"King George," David says darkly, sounding not very happy about it at all. "He used some sort of magic to make us all sleep."

"What does he want?" Emma asks, eying the chains with a rather speculative look. Snow has already tested the strength of them and knows they will hold.

"My misery," David says shortly. "But how did he escape the curse? Who's his ally and what do they want?"

"Simple," a voice answers from behind them. A voice Snow knows all too well and it chills her to the bone. "I want to see my daughter."

Cora, Snow thinks. It's Cora and they may just have gone from being in trouble to being in deep shit.

II

Storybrooke, the present

II

"Regina!" Henry calls and Regina blinks and tries to focus. She's in her bed, she realizes, and Henry has jumped up on it as well, shaking her.

"Henry," she says sleepily.

"Mom, I saw mom!"

"What?"

"She was in my dream," Henry says and Regina sighs.

"Henry, you miss her. Of course you would dream about her," she says patiently.

"No!" he says. "It was real. The flames burned me. Look!"

He holds out his arm and with mounting horror Regina realizes that he has burns all the way down it. And if that is real, the rest might be too.

She draws her hand across his, healing it while Henry watches with wide eyes.

"There," she says softly, sitting up and patting the spot next to her. He sits down there as she puts her arm around him. "Now tell me about this dream."

II

FTL, the present

II

"Hello, Snow White," Cora says and David has a strong urge to reach for a sword. He doesn't like that tone of voice at all and especially not used on his wife.

"Who the hell are you?" Emma says, no tact, all attitude and Cora simply smiles.

"It's Regina's mother," Snow says in a low voice and Emma makes a disbelieving face. "Don't trust anything she says."

"Are you so heartless you would deny a mother the chance to see her daughter again?" Cora says. "You of all people should know how painful that is."

"I think that's Regina's choice and she already made it," Snow says. Cora scoffs a little, but doesn't argue it. Instead she kneels down to touch Snow's cheek and David instinctively balls a fist.

"Sweet Snow," Cora says. "I know you found a way to send your daughter away from the curse. Tell me how and we may all go there."

David very deliberately does not look at the wardrobe. Snow too, he notices is looking elsewhere.

"No," Snow says quietly. "I won't do that to Regina."

"I told you they wouldn't reveal it willingly," George says from the door. He smiles unpleasantly and David doesn't like that one bit either. His family. He has to protect his family.

"You allied with her?" he directs at George, making sure his voice is full of contempt.

"He did," Cora says brightly. "He came to me after you took his kingdom and Regina wouldn't help him. I heard about Rumpelstiltskin's little plan, so I kept us safe when the curse was cast and protected a small part of this land. When the curse broke, we came here to see what portal you two might have used to protect your little daughter."

Emma looks up at that, seeming to take in the room for the first time. David wonders if she realizes this was meant to be hers, meant to be where she grew up as loved as much as both he and Snow could managed to make her.

"What does he get out of it?" David says, eying George.

"I get my revenge," George says. "After she is done with you."

The magic slams into Snow and pins her against the wall before David can react. He screams her name at the same time as Emma does, while Cora approaches Snow with a hand stretched out.

"I am going to give my daughter a gift," Cora says, smiling. "I'm going to give her the heart of Snow White."

II

Storybrooke, the present

II

Regina has made them both hot chocolate and after finishing his story about the nightmare, Henry slowly drinks his. They're both sitting in the too-large kitchen even if it's not really morning yet. He misses the smaller one in his home. It always felt like just the right size.

"When is your dad coming home?" he asks suddenly.

"Next week probably," she says softly. "They want him to keep him for observation a while longer. He's been very sick a long time."

"You love him, don't you?"

She smiles a touch sadly. "I do, Henry."

"What about your mom?" he asks and her face goes very still.

"Henry..." She puts a hand on his shoulder, not quite looking at him. "Not all moms are good moms."

"Yours wasn't good?"

"No," Regina says and her voice is sad, so he leans into her and hugs her. She goes still for a moment, and then hugs him back.

"Everyone should have a good mom," Henry says and thinks of both of his. "I think you would make a good mom."

He can hear Regina draw a sharp breath. "You think so, Henry?"

He nods. "I think so. Maybe you could adopt, like mom and dad did."

"Maybe," Regina agrees, ruffling his hair gently. She seems to actually think about it from the look on her face.

"Weren't you mom's mom for a while?" he asks.

"Step-mom," Regina corrects, as if that makes a difference. Henry doesn't think so. Mom and dad are mom and dad, it doesn't matter that they adopted him. What matters is how they feel about him.

"That makes you my family too," Henry concludes and Regina looks down at him. Her eyes seem to soften.

"I guess it does," she says.

II

FTL, the present

II

No, Emma thinks dimly. No no no.

Mary Margaret – her mother – is pressed against the wall and this Cora person is approaching with an outstretched hand and talking about taking hearts. David is screaming and trying to throw himself at Cora only to be thrown by what must be magic and all Emma can think is one word.

No.

No.

The word becomes something in her, something she can't describe but feels like a force. No. No no no. She thinks it and she wills it and Cora suddenly pauses, turning towards her.

"You have..." Cora starts.

Something pushes out of Emma, a wave of light that slams into Cora and throws her. Snow falls coughing to the floor; David crawls towards her and Emma thinks that word again.

_No._

She just found her family, she's not going to lose them. No. No.

Another wave pushes out of Emma; the room seems to fill with light and somehow, she knows this is her doing and her magic.


	43. Chapter Forty-Two

II

**Chapter Forty-Two**

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_Regina's mother is using magic again and young Snow watches with wide eyes from her hiding place. It looks so easy. So simple. But magic isn't really, she knows that. She once had the choice to save her mother with magic and chose not to because it would cost another's life._

_Magic always has a price, it seems like._

_What is Cora's, she wonders and keeps watching._

II

FTL, the present

II

The room is pulsating. That is the best Snow can describe it. It's pulsing with magic, almost like a heartbeat. It's forming a barrier, a shield around the room. She can feel the power in it and it's radiating from Emma, who is rising to her feet in the middle of the room. The chains fall off her and a moment later Snow feels them fall from her as well. From David too, who is staring at Emma with wonder.

"Emma!" he says breathlessly.

Cora and George have been thrown clear to the other side of the barrier emanating from Emma. Cora looks up with consternation. Then she gives Snow a hard look that promises nothing good.

"This isn't over," Cora says and then she and George are gone in a cloud of purple.

Snow pushes herself to her feet and approaches Emma carefully. In the corner of her eye she can see David do the same. Their daughter seems to be mouthing "no" over and over, not even reacting as they draw closer.

"Emma?" Snow tries, reaching out to touch her. At the contact, Emma shudders and then falls forward. Luckily, David has good reflexes and catches Emma before she falls face first onto the floor.

"Emma," he says gently. She looks pale and drained as he shifts her against his body to keep her upright.

"Charming, they'll come back," Snow says urgently.

"Right," he agrees, lifting Emma fully into his arms. Snow chokes for a moment, remembering the last time she saw David carry their daughter. "What do we do about the wardrobe? Cora will figure out it's what we used and we can't bring it."

Cora will indeed figure it out, Snow knows. The wardrobe doesn't exactly go with the rest of the room; this room. Emma's nursery is now just ashes and broken glass and lost futures.

Ashes, she thinks.

"Burn it," Snow says. He stares at her. "David, we can't let her use it. It will put Regina in danger and Henry too. Everyone we love in Storybrooke will be in danger."

He exhales, then nods. "Burn it."

She nods, already reaching for the torch on the wall. She doesn't want to think too much about what they're about to do and what it might mean for their chances to get back to Henry.

Ashes, she thinks again. Oh. _Ashes._

II

Storybrooke, present day

II

There is a stranger in town, Henry realizes. A stranger with a motorcycle. He can see the guy tinkering with the bike through the window.

Regina is still on the phone talking to Mr. Gold about the dream. Every now and then he hears a louder word and it's rarely a very nice one. Regina and Mr. Gold don't like each other much, he's pretty sure.

A stranger, Henry considers. Throwing a look at Regina, he carefully abandons his position by the window and heads for the door. As Regina utters another angry word, Henry opens the door and slips out.

The stranger looks up right away, smiling as Henry draws closer. "You're a curious kid, aren't you?"

Henry just looks at the stranger. No, definitely not someone he's seen in town before or anyone he's tried to match to a fairytale character. This is a stranger.

"Why are you here?" Henry asks.

"I came for Emma," the stranger says and Henry stares at him. "You know any Emmas?"

"Yeah," Henry says cautiously. Emma. That's his mom. One of his moms. Does the stranger really know her? She has lived outside Storybrooke so she would know people from outside. "What do you want with Emma?"

The stranger smiles, but it seems more sad than anything. "Have you ever made a mistake, kid?"

Henry thinks about the time he made mom cry by telling her she wasn't really his mom. He hadn't meant it. He had just been angry she wouldn't let him ride a bike yet and said it in anger. He heard her crying against dad's chest later that night and said sorry, but he's never forgotten what he did.

"Yeah," he says again. He has, after all.

"I made one," the stranger goes on. "I let her down. I'm trying to make it up to her."

"How?"

"That's what I'm trying to decide," the stranger says. He looks at Henry intently. "Would you give her something from me when she gets back? It's something she might need one of these days."

"Okay," Henry says cautiously. The stranger hands him an envelope with Emma's name on. It isn't very thick. "But mom and dad say I shouldn't accept anything from strangers."

"I'm August," the stranger says. "Now we're not strangers anymore."

And with that, August gets back up on his bike and drives off, leaving Henry at the sidewalk staring at the envelope. Slowly, knowing mom and dad would reprimand him for it, he opens it and takes out the sheet of paper inside.

It has only one sentence written on it.

_Neal Cassidy is Baelfire._

How is that going to help anything, Henry wonders. Then he remembers – Baelfire, isn't that one of the characters in his book?

II

FTL, the present

II

They're deep into the forest before David dares put Emma down and take a breather. The castle is no longer in sight and darkness and trees are shrouding them, so it feels safe to do so at last. He sits down under a tree, easing her head into his lap while Snow sits down beside him and puts down everything she is carrying; weapons, some provisions and the ashes she insisted on gathering.

"She did magic," Snow says softly. Carefully, she touches Emma's head, a gentle caress that doesn't wake their daughter.

"Yeah," he agrees. He remembers the display of power and the wonder he felt at it. Their daughter doing something like that. He could never have imagined it. That she was as capable as her mother, yes. But magic? He's never had any and neither has Snow.

"She saved us."

"Cora will be looking for us," Snow says, letting her hand linger on Emma's head while looking up at him.

"We'll have to avoid her then," he says. "Get an hour of rest before we continue. I'll keep watch."

"Rest," she repeats, the expression on her face changing. "David, do you remember the nightmares I had after the sleeping curse?"

"Of course," he says. Oh, he remembers. Always the same, always the burning room, always her waling with a startled cry. He used to soothe her and light a candle for her after. Sometimes that wasn't enough and he would kiss and caress the memories away until the heat in her skin was all the heat she could feel.

"When we were passed out, I was back in the room," she says and he rubs her shoulder in comfort. "But David, Henry was there too."

"Henry," David repeats, feeling a sharp twinge of pain at the name. Henry isn't with them and he feels the absence as an ache in his whole body. "He told me Emma woke him from a sleeping curse. Maybe anyone who has been under it has nightmares like that. But I thought you stopped having them?"

"I did," she says reassuringly. "Maybe it was because I was put to sleep magically?"

"Maybe," he agrees. "But that means Henry is having nightmares."

Her face looks as pained at that as he feels. Henry is having nightmares and they aren't there to help their son. He lowers his head to rest his forehead against hers, drawing strength from her nearness.

"We will find a way back," he whispers. She tilts her head up and kisses him; her lips parting as he angles his head and kisses her right back. With their daughter in his lap, a sorceress, and a vengeful king hunting them and a pine tree at his back it's not exactly ideal, but as far as he's concerned, kissing his wife is always the right thing to do.

"Could you two please not do that right in front of me?" Emma asks. They both break the kiss and look down to see Emma looking up at them.

"Emma!" he says delightedly, helping her sit up. "How do you feel?"

"Like hell," she replies earnestly. She touches her head and winces. "Did I really...?"

"Yeah, Emma," Snow says, smiling and looking worried at the same time. "You used magic."

"Shit," Emma sums up. She groans and closes her eyes, then simply lays down again, putting her head in David's lap with a sigh. He draws a sharp breath. Either she's still too out of it to realize where she's resting her head or she knows very well.

He wants her to know very well so badly it's like an ache in his heart. Snow looks at him with teary eyes and he knows she feels the same way. Carefully, she puts her hand back down on Emma's head and Emma sighs softly once again.

He wanted to sing her lullabies, he remembers. The ones his mother sang for him, the ones he grew up with. He was going to bring his child up with them as well.

She's much too old for lullabies now. She's a grown woman. He can't sing them to her. She would probably scoff at it.

But he does hum them softly; and so his daughter rests in his lap while his wife rests against his chest and he hums all the lullabies he can remember.


	44. Chapter Forty-Three

II

**Chapter Forty-Three**

II

FTL, the present

II

Ashes. They've even taken the ashes, Cora observes and looks at where a wardrobe once stood. Clever of them, quite clever. Unexpected. Just as their daughter using magic was.

She'll know to expect more from them in the future.

"What do we do now?" George asks and she considers for a moment whether he's of any more use to her at all or if she should simply drop him from a tower. Still, it rarely pays to do anything rash despite how much of a satisfying 'thump' he might make hitting the ground.

"Even if they have the ashes, they still need something to direct where a portal takes them," Cora reasons. With just ashes, they will need that.

"Would they know where to get such a thing?" George asks.

"Perhaps, perhaps not," she says. "But I definitely do."

II

Storybrooke, the present

II

"Regina tells me you're having nightmares," Gold says, sitting down on a chair across from Henry. The boy looks up from his book, nodding. Regina is leaning against the kitchen counter, supervising in a way that would make any principal proud, Gold reckons.

"Mom was there," Henry says. He's making a statement, not an invitation to express doubt. It's so like Charming it makes Gold smile a little.

"It is an after-effect of the sleeping curse," Gold says and Henry nods as if he's figured out that much. "It will fade in time. I am not sure why your mother was there, the nightmares should have stopped a long time ago for her."

"So he will keep having these nightmares for a while?" Regina asks. She can't even properly mask the concern in her voice and Gold thinks she's come a long, long way. Not the road he intended for her, but still a long way.

"He will," Gold replies.

"Maybe mom will be there again," Henry says hopefully.

"If she is, this will help," Gold says softly. He holds up the pendant. "Put this around your neck before you go to sleep. It will help control the flames in the room. You can also give her this message. Tell her to look in Regina's cottage for ink and a name that is very dear to her."

"Thank you," Henry says sincerely, accepting the pendant and putting it around his neck right after. "I will tell her."

"What's the price?" Regina asks, crossing her arms. Her gaze is openly hostile, making Gold chuckle. "There always is one."

"This one is for Henry," he replies glibly. "This one is free."

Regina narrows her eyes, disbelief radiating from her. But she says nothing, letting the threatening gaze speak for her. Regina Mills, so protective of Snow White's grandson and son in one, whoever would have thought?

She's loving again, he suddenly realizes. She's truly loving again. She always did have a heart, unlike her mother, meaning she always had the possibility to love again too. Perhaps it's the true love's potion she drank that is fueling it or perhaps it merely strengthens it.

He feels a sharp longing for Belle, sharp enough to choke him for a moment. Henry looks up at him quizzically and Regina tilts her head, so Gold bites it back and offers a smile of no substance.

"What are you reading this morning?"

"I'm reading about Baelfire," Henry says and for a moment, Gold sees his own son in Henry's image and it's a more radiant sight than all the gold in all the worlds.

II

FTL, the present

II

At least her parents are not making out this time, Emma reflects as she opens her eyes. They're just pressing their foreheads against each other and looking at each other in a way that, on second thought, is not a lot better than the kissing.

At the same time, it's also making her heart catch. She can feel Mary Margaret's hand on her head and David's hand on her arm, moving up and down slowly.

Her head hurts a little and she remembers that she apparently did magic. As little sense as that makes, but then there's everything else she's done too: killed a dragon, discovered her parents are Snow White and Prince Charming and the same age as her, realized that her parents are also the parents of her son, and fell into a hat to wake up in another land. Come to think of it, nothing at all makes any sense and yet it's her life now.

"Hey," she says, pushing herself up. Both David and Mary Margaret immediately shift their attention to her. "How long was I out?"

"Just half an hour," David says reassuringly. "Are you feeling better?"

"I think so," she says, standing up. They follow her, Mary Margaret picking up a leather bag or sack of some sort. Even without looking inside it, Emma is willing to bet it contains weapons. "What do we do now? Go back to the castle?"

Mary Margaret and David exchange a glance and Emma knows what it means before they even speak. Somehow, their exchanged gazes are starting to become readable to her.

"We burned the wardrobe," Mary Margaret says gently. "We couldn't risk Cora realizing what it was. I'm sorry, Emma."

"I would have done the same," Emma offers and Mary Margaret looks up in surprise. Then she nods.

"I brought the ashes," Mary Margaret goes on, pulling out a vial, and this time it's Emma who looks up in surprise. "Maybe there is still magic in it."

Emma reaches out a hand without thinking, and as she touches the vial, the ashes inside light up with colors. David and Mary Margaret both gasp.

"There is still magic in it," Emma says distantly; she can feel it.

II

Storybrooke, the present

II

The dwarfs are mining as Graham swings his pick-ax and joins in, Leroy overseeing it all. Technically, Graham doesn't need to be here since he's not much of a miner but he finds comfort in it. It makes him feel like he's doing something to get Emma back instead of just waiting - waiting as they all are for the dwarfs to find diamonds to make into fairy dust.

Then hopefully the hat will be fixed. It has to be fixed. He doesn't want to think about the other option. It involves too much heartbreak for too many people. The curse was broken. It is time for a happy ending.

"Sheriff," a voice calls and Graham turns around sharply to see Killian Jones, or Hook which he seems equally comfortable with, standing a few feet away.

"What are you here to ruin now?" Graham asks irritably. He's not sure who he blames the most for Emma and her parents falling into that portal; Hook or Gold.

"I'm here to help," Hook offers and Graham gives the pirate a long, hard look.

"Why should I trust you?"

"I'm sure you're not going to trust me whatever reasons I offer," Hook replies, smiling faintly. "I am still here to help. Don't worry, I will be back to making trouble the moment that fair little family is back home."

Graham considers, giving Leroy a look. The dwarf shrugs. Right then. How much damage could a pirate with a pick-ax do anyway?

On second thought, best not to even think about that.

"How are you at mining?" Graham asks and Hook flashes a winning smile.

"How hard can it be?"

"Hard enough," Leory says grumpily, giving Hook a displeased look. "You'll learn."

II

FTL, the present

II

In daylight, it will be easier for Cora to find them and so, Snow leads them deep into the forest until she finds what she's looking for. David smiles the moment he spots the place, remembering as she does a net, exchanged insults and the start of something that will hopefully never end.

"This was your hide-out?" Emma asks skeptically, eying the area.

"Yes," Snow replies. "It was a very good one. Regina's men never found me here."

"I found you," David interjects, smiling cheekily. "I will always find you."

"Only because I want you to," Snow replies, giving him an equally cheeky grin in return.

"Hey, children present here," Emma cuts in, then makes a funny face. Even if it's said in jest, it is acknowledging them to be her parents, Snow knows. Emma is thinking of them as her parents. It's started.

"Sorry," David says in what seems to be an attempt at seeming unaffected and failing badly. As she probably is, Snow is aware. She squeezes his arm lightly before leading him and Emma into the darkness that is her former underground hiding place.

"Let's stay here until nightfall," Snow suggests. It is strange to have David and Emma here, she finds. For so long this was a place of solitude and loneliness and now it's cramped with her family. It's just missing Henry, in fact.

Henry, she thinks sharply and painfully. David must see something on her face, because this time it's him who squeezes her arm. She nods at him as she meets his gaze. They will find their way back to Henry. They will.

They find each other in this family, after all, and in the dark she takes Emma's hand in one of her own and David's hand in the other.

II

At the bottom of the beanstalk, with their cargo safely secured, George turns to Cora. "So we have the compass, they have the ashes. Now what? Capture them?"

"We only need to capture one of them," Cora says. "Love is a weakness. If we have one of them, we can make the other two do what we want."

George looks at her. "David. I want the man who failed me as a son."

Cora considers it, then nods. "He's as good as any. David it is."


	45. Chapter Forty-Four

II

**Chapter Forty-Four**

II

FTL, the present

II

Emma sleeps like her mother, David has observed over the last few hours. It is something in the features of their faces that are so similar it makes him smile at it. Mother and daughter.

He can see how Henry sleeps in Emma too. He's watched Henry sleep often enough, after all. He knows how his son looks while sleeping. Now he knows his daughter also.

"Charming?" Snow murmurs without opening her eyes. "Have you been awake watching us this whole time?"

"No."

"Liar."

He chuckles, giving Emma a brief look to determine that she's still sleeping and then leans forward and eagerly kisses his wife. Not for long, or rather not for as long as he would like, but it still leaves him a little breathless.

"Did you have the nightmare again?" he asks softly as he pulls back reluctantly.

"No," she says. "Must be magical sleep that does it."

"Don't worry," he tells her, drawing a finger down her cheek. "You will get home to him."

"We all will," Snow stresses, throwing a gaze at Emma. "I've been thinking... Maybe Regina's cottage has magical supplies still that may help us use the ashes."

He nods, scooting closer to Emma. "Emma?"

"No," Emma replies and he smiles as she opens her eyes. "What's tonight's plan apart from avoiding the losing contender for mom of the year and the regal asshole?"

"Regina's cottage," Snow says and David nods. He remembers the last time he was there, when Regina told them it would be their child who broke the curse. Now he will be bringing his child there.

A strange sort of full circle, he considers.

II

Storybrooke, the present

II

Mining is dull enough to almost be relaxing, Killian finds. The dwarfs seem to be fully focused on it, as if work is enough for them.

They've probably never sailed the seas, watched the endless horizon knowing it promises everything beyond it, or found a new port every time the previous one became familiar.

At least that's how it was when he had Milah along with him for it all. After he lost her, the only thing on his horizon became revenge.

That crocodile, he thinks, and swings the pick-ax extra hard. It breaks rock and something glitters underneath.

Diamonds, Killian sees. Diamonds that can become fairy dust. He's found what they're all looking for and they haven't even noticed yet.

He could just take them. He would have fairy dust then, something to aid him in getting his revenge. But that might trap that little family in another world for good, the family he swore to return to restore his honor.

Choices, Killian thinks. It always comes down to a choice and the consequences of it.

II

FTL, the present

II

Regina's cottage bears the mark of years passed, David notices as they walk into it. Part of the roof has caved in and animals have tracked through. But it is still standing, and as they walk further in, he can see what appear to be shelves of ingredients for magic.

Just what they were looking for.

"Look," he says to Snow, who nods and walks over. Carefully, she begins pulling out items and putting them into the sack while he walks further in.

Emma has paused by the table, staring at something. "What's this?"

He walks over, picking up the parchment. It has Emma's name written over and over again in what he recognizes as Regina's handwriting. Emma looks a little freaked out by it, which is rather natural given that it is her name. He feels uneasy about it as well.

"What's what?" Snow asks, and he turns to give her the parchment.

"It's my name," Emma says, sounding freaked too. "Why would someone write my name over and over?"

"I told her your name," Snow breathes, meeting David's gaze.

The roar tears through the cottage and they all freeze at the sound of it. Another one comes right after, as if in reply.

"Charming," Snow says in a low voice. He nods; he knows that noise but wishes he didn't. Carefully, she puts the parchment into the sack and pulls two swords out, giving one to him and one to Emma. He grips it firmly while Snow reaches back in and finds her bow.

"What was that?" Emma asks, gripping her sword and holding it out as she would a gun.

"Ogres," he says. "Did I mention our land has a few dangers as well?"

"You mean apart from people looking to kill you?" Emma asks.

"Yeah."

"No. You neglected to mention that."

"Consider it mentioned," Snow says. "Aim for their eyes."

With that, she walks out and he follows, seeing the two ogres come charging up towards them the moment they're outside. Snow readies an arrow, he takes position and it's almost like old times.

Except this time they don't just have each other to fight for.

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_The arrow buries itself into flesh and Charming draws a sharp breath as the troll staggers, then falls over. Behind it stands Snow, bow raised and another arrow already ready._

_She just saved his life, he realizes. Before he can fully contemplate that, he sees movement behind her._

_"Duck!" he calls and she does without question as he grips the sword the troll knocked out of his earlier, rolls forwards and buries it in the troll that is swinging its ax where Snow's head just was._

_Troll attack. The third this week. It is King George's doing, he knows, still seeking his revenge and trying to stop them from retaking the kingdom. Desperate enough to consider even the unthinkable._

_Snow gives him a look as Charming gets back up. She readies another arrow, he holds his sword on the ready. As more trolls come at them, he covers the short range while she picks them off from a distance. His heart is beating wildly as he fights, ducking and weaving incoming blows until there are no more. No more trolls, just the fallen ones around them._

_He can hear distant fighting around, but by the look of things the attack has been thwarted by their growing army. They've won another battle._

_Snow lowers her bow as he turns to her. She is breathing hard as well, lifting her eyes to meet his gaze and locking on. She is thinking what he is, he can tell. They could have lost each other just now. They can lose each other in a fight tomorrow._

_He reaches for her at the same time as she moves towards him and they crash into each other, lips to lips and body to body. He drops the sword, she drops the bow and their arms go around each other as she tugs at his bottom lip impatiently. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss, guiding her backwards until she has a pine tree at her back._

_Against it, he kisses her until his lips feel swollen and heavy and he can feel the heat in her cheeks as he cups her face and hear the moan at the back of her throat. He would carry her into a tent here and now if it wasn't for the fact that he can hear Red clearing her throat behind them. Duty calls._

_"I can't lose you," he murmurs against Snow's lips and the lingering kiss she gives him tells him she feels likewise._

_True love. Once you have it, losing it might just kill you, Charming is pretty sure._

II

FTL, the present

II

Snow stands very still as the first ogre comes at her. It roars again as Charming slashes at it, drawing its attention. The second is approaching as well, and she lets an arrow fly by its head to draw its attention.

It keeps Emma safe, which is the point.

The ogre slams its first, but Snow dodges, noticing Charming rolling away from an attack as well. He has wounded it, she notices, and she buries an arrow into its back before turning her attention on her own opponent again.

It roars.

"Hey!" Emma calls and the ogre turns. Emma has dropped the sword and is holding out her gun, Snow realizes, but before she can say a word the gun is fired. The sound echoes through the forest and to Snow's horror, she can hear another roar answer in the distance.

A third ogre.

Without thinking, Snow whistles sharply. The ogre turns again and as it comes at her she very calmly aims her arrow. Only when the ogre is about to tear her head off does she let go and it sinks it the eye.

The ogre drops to its knees, then keels over. Snow doesn't take the time to savor the sight, already bolting towards Emma. Charming is still holding his own, she sees in the corner of her eyes and he's mouthing Emma's name at her.

Yes. Protect their daughter.

The third ogres comes bolting through the trees and Emma whips around to fire at it. The ogre is already reaching for her as Snow tackles her own daughter, pushing her out of the way but getting a swipe herself. It knocks her off her feet and she loses the grip on her bow.

The ogre bears down on her, roaring, and Snow has a moment to feel a strange sort of acceptance that this might be it.

Then her daughter jumps in front of her, now holding the sword again and ramming it into the ogre's eye.

"No," Emma says, breathing hard. The ogre makes a noise that might be a groan, then collapses as well.

"Emma!" Snow exclaims, looking at her. Emma just sort of shrugs as Snow gets to her feet and pull Emma into a quick hug. "Oh! David!"

They both turn. The ogre has fallen, a sword firmly embedded in its eye. But David isn't there, isn't anywhere as they call his name and look around.

David is gone, Snow realizes with a sinking feeling. As if by magic. That can only mean one thing.

Cora and George have David, Snow knows and she grips the bow harder. They have her husband.


	46. Chapter Forty-Five

II

**Chapter Forty-Five**

II

FTL, the present

II

It hurts, David feels, and it's all he can feel. It hurts and it hurts and it hurts - his heart being squeezed by King George.

It was Cora who took it out, Cora who appeared just as he took down the ogre and Cora who teleported him away to this place. He did recognize it. They're at the edge of Lake Nostros. Why they're here, he isn't sure.

He knows what he is, though. The hostage. They'll demand the ashes in return for sparing him and in the meantime, George seems pretty set on making him suffer.

"This is what you did to me," George says darkly. "I gave you everything and you broke my heart."

"You gave me nothing that could ever be more valuable than Snow," David replies, thinking of all the riches King Midas could conjure and Snow White. It's not even a contest.

"Fool," George says. "Romantic. You would happily die for her right now, wouldn't you?"

"Of course," David says, trying to remember how to breathe properly.

"You won't get to," George says and smiles unpleasantly. "They will come here to save you and you will get to see them die trying."

The pain of his heart being squeezed is nothing compared to the pain at the thought of that, David finds and then he feels both.

II

"What do we do?" Emma says once more and Mary Margaret again fails to reply, sitting quietly under the tree and staring ahead. It's almost as if her mother has snapped, Emma reflects, and feels a little terrified at that.

She can feel the emotion and the power rise in her again – magic calling – but she doesn't know where to direct it this time. David has been taken somewhere and they don't know where.

"The nightmare," Mary Margaret says suddenly. "Henry was there. If I go back in, I can talk to him, have him ask Gold or Regina for help. But I have to be knocked out by magic."

"What are you talking about?" Emma asks. "Henry? Nightmares?"

"It's an after effect of the sleeping curse. We go somewhere in our dreams. Your father..." Mary Margaret chokes, drawing a slow, shuddering breath. "Your father used to comfort me after mine and they went away with time. But when we were knocked out, I was there again."

"And Henry was there too?" Emma asks, feeling a sharp pain in her chest at the thought of that.

"Yes," Mary Margaret breathes. She holds out the sack. "Emma, you have magic in you. You'll know what to use to put me to sleep."

"I don't..."

"Try!"

The sharp desperation in Mary Margaret's voice makes Emma swallow a lump in her throat. Of course she too wants David safe, but she hasn't known and loved him for decades. Mary Margaret has.

Closing her eyes, Emma focuses and tries to feel. Sleep. Sleep. As she touches the items in the sack, one tingles in her hand and she pulls it out. "This one."

"Okay," Mary Margaret says, taking the pouch and pouring out some powder.

"You do realize if I am wrong this might curse you, or something worse?" Emma asks tentatively. "Maybe you shouldn't trust me."

"I trust you," Mary Margaret says and breathes in the powder.

II

Storybrooke, the present

II

Henry is dreaming again. It's the flames again, but he's been working on keeping them calm for hours now. They still burn him every now and then, but he is determined not to wake up. Not yet.

He's waiting for mom. Maybe she won't come back, but if she does, he'll do everything he can to be there when she is. He'll find her.

He breathes, trying to keep his fear in check. He's the son and grandson of Prince Charming and Snow White. They're heroes. He can be a hero too.

"Henry!" mom calls and he turns around sharply to see that it is indeed mom on the other side of the room. "Henry!"

He runs towards her, not caring that flames shoot up around him. He has to stop in the middle though, a wall of fire between them.

"Mom!" he calls and she smiles. "I have a message from Mr. Gold. He said to look in Regina's cottage for ink and a name very dear to you. Do you know what he meant?"

Mom looks distant for a moment. "The words. The spells. The spells were in the book. Yeah, Henry, I think I know what he meant."

"I've missed you," he says forlornly. "And dad and Emma. Are you coming home soon?"

"Henry, we will do anything to come home to you. We're trying to make a portal," she says. She looks like she's fading and he tries to reach for her, but the flames are still in the way and make him whimper.

"I love you," he calls and she smiles.

"I love you t..."

And with that, she is gone again and Henry wants to cry but he isn't sure if heroes should cry, so he bites it back - and tries to will his family home instead.

II

FTL, the present

II

Mary Margaret's eyes shoot open and she bolts upright from where Emma had placed her mother in her lap, giving Emma quite the fright.

"What happened? Did you see Henry? Could he get a message to Gold or Regina?"

"He already had a message from Gold," Mary Margaret says absentmindedly, digging through the sack and pulling out the parchment where Emma's name is written over and over. "Ink and name."

"What?" Emma asks, then has her second fright as a raven lands on Mary Margaret's shoulder and starts to caw. Even more puzzling, Mary Margaret looks like she's actively listening.

"Cora has David and will trade him for the ashes," Mary Margaret says and Emma's mind boggles. Her mother can speak _bird_? "At Lake Nostros. Come on."

"You know it's a trap, right?" Emma asks hesitantly.

"Yes," Mary Margaret says darkly. "It's going to be hers."

II

Storybrooke, the present

II

"Regina!" Henry calls and Regina's eyes fly open. What's the point of having alarm clocks when you have Charming's grandson staying over, she reflects. It's like lack of tact is in their genes.

"What is it, Henry?" she asks, then gasps as she sees the state of his arms. Burns all over.

"It doesn't matter," he says. "Mom was there again. I gave her the message. They're trying to get home. She said they were trying to make a portal. Where would they come through if they manage?"

Regina thinks as she draws her hand down Henry's arm, healing him. "The well, maybe. It is where what is lost is returned."

"Let's go then!" Henry says impatiently.

"Henry..."

"Please!"

You'd think it actually was a magic word, Regina reflects, and gets out of bed.

II

FTL, the present

II

David is only dimly aware of what is going on around him. The pain has become an ache instead, but George still has a firm grip on his heart and squeezes it now and then. Cora is using some sort of magic that is burrowing into the ground, making water flood up.

So there still is water in this lake, just underground, David thinks distantly. He might have saved his mother after all if he had known.

"Are you sure they'll come?" George says.

"Of course," Cora says. "They love him."

David almost wishes they didn't at that, that Emma and Snow would save themselves. He would die to see them safe, but he also knows they wouldn't let him.

"You know nothing about love!" Snow calls and he lift his head enough to see her across the water. She's beautiful, holding the ashes in one hand and some sort of parchment in the other.

"I know it is a weakness," Cora counters. "The ashes if you would. Pour them into the water."

"Snow, don't!" he calls and pain shoots through him at that. He can't quite hold back a cry of pain for all he tries to fight it.

"Stop it!" Snow calls, her voice pained. She looks at him, eyes teary as she pours the ashes into the water. They all watch as the ashes join the water and it forms a maelstrom of purple. "Now let him go!"

"I think not," George says, squeezing the heart again and David bites down on his lip hard enough to taste blood.

"I think so," Emma says from behind and the blast of magic slamming into George makes him drop the heart. As David fights to get on his knees, he can see Cora ready a fireball against Emma. Without thinking, he throws himself at Cora and interrupts the spell as they both fall. The compass goes flying too.

"You foolish man," she hisses and he feels magic choking him, driving the air and life out of him.

"Step away from my husband," Snow says and despite everything, David has to smile at that. Snow, oh Snow.

He looks up to see that his wife has his heart firmly in one hand – of course, it's always been hers – and is holding a parchment like a weapon in the other. Emma is standing a few feet away, having picked up the dropped compass. She seems to have tossed George even further away with magic, but he can see from the drained look on her face she can't do much more before she passes out again.

"Or what?" Cora counters, choking him again.

"Or this," Snow says and breathes at the parchment. The words float up and into the air and then move towards Cora. He can see the magic of the teleport spell, a purple cloud, but it doesn't finish. The words hit, the purple fades and Cora flickers with blue. She's stunned, he realizes. She can't use magic.

"Come on!" Snow calls and he's vaguely aware of Emma's arms pulling him up, guiding him towards Snow. He almost falls into her, putting one arm around her.  
Emma holds out the compass and he puts his other hand on it, Snow puts a hand on it, the other still clutching his heart.

"Let's go home," Emma says.

And with that, they all jump into the portal.


	47. Chapter Forty-Six

II

**Chapter Forty-Six**

II

Storybrooke, the present

II

Henry is staring at the well as if he can will something to happen and Regina feels her heart breaking a little for him. He's so young, so hopeful, so convinced that happy endings can happen.

He reminds her of Daniel, she thinks; a bittersweet realization. Daniel. He made her believe too and then her mother made sure all beliefs were in vain. No happiness for Regina. Only a crown she didn't want, a vengeance she chose until it nearly ruined her and her mother's shadow darkening her whole life.

"Henry..."

"They're coming, I know it," Henry says, looking up at her. "Please, we have to wait for them."

"Henry, I'm sorry, but..." she starts, but then a movement makes her trail off. A hand. A hand is reaching up of the well, clutching at the stone.

Happy endings, Regina thinks as she runs over. Maybe Daniel was right after all. Maybe they are possible.

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_Daniel is smiling as he's kissing her and it makes her lips curve up as well in response. Oh, she is happy. It is the only time she is truly happy, away from mother's demands and restrictions and father's pitying gaze._

_Happiness. It is a strange thing, to feel this happy just because someone else lives. It's what Daniel calls true love and what Regina has finally realized is missing between her parents. What has always been missing between them._

_She doesn't want to miss it._

_"I love you," Daniel says softly. "I want you to be happy."_

_"I am," she promises breathlessly. "I am happy with you. It's the only time I'm truly happy."_

_He presses a brief kiss against the tip of her nose. "One day you'll be happy without me too."_

_"I wouldn't know how," she says as he cups her cheek. He's all she can see, the only future she can imagine, the sole happiness she can have._

_"You'll learn," he promises "I would have you be happy all the days of your life, not just the moments with me. Be happy, Regina. For me."_

_"For you," she agrees and closes her eyes to his kiss._

II

Storybrooke, present day

II

Snow becomes aware that Regina and Henry are there as she pulls David the last part and pushes him over the edge of the well and onto the ground. A moment later she follows, pressing his heart against her own chest. She's not about to let any harm come to that heart. It would be like harming her own.

"Henry!" Emma gasps. Snow looks up to see Emma sweep Henry into an embrace and she smiles at the sight. They actually did it. They actually reunited their family and they're all back safe and sound.

"What happened?" Regina asks. She's staring at the heart. "Is that his?"

"Yeah," Snow says. "How do I..."

"Just shove it back in," Regina says, putting her hand on Snow's. "I'll show you."

"David," Snow murmurs. His eyelids flutter a little and she leans down to kiss him. When he starts kissing her back she figures him distracted enough, and she and Regina push into his chest at the same time. He gasps into the kiss and then his heart is his own again. She pulls back to smile at him and sees him smile at her as if he's as happy as he could be.

"Mom! Dad!" Henry calls, pulling Emma with him and throwing himself at them. David sits up, pulling Henry into an embrace between them while Henry still has a firm grip on Emma. Regina sits down too and Snow mouths 'thank you' to her before reaching out and pulling Emma into what is more like half an embrace.

"Welcome home," Regina says softly and strangely sincerely.

"Thanks," Emma offers in return. "Okay, I think I need a shower. And coffee. And a bed."

"All those sound good," Snow agrees, meeting her husband's gaze over Henry's shoulder. And maybe a few other things, she doesn't add.

II

FTL, present day

II

"They've stunned my magic," Cora says darkly. She stares at the waters, but not really seeing them. This kind of magic is not something Snow White would have, no. Rumpelstiltskin perhaps, or her daughter. She has a score to settle with both and now she can get to neither.

"Perhaps there is another way," George offers. He holds out something in his palm. "The giant you shrunk had this around his neck."

"A dead bean."

"Yes. But these waters have regenerative powers, didn't you say?"

She gives him a look. Perhaps it was a good thing she didn't push him out of that tower after all. Yes. Perhaps he has a use after all. He could be a distraction for that charming little family while she gets to her daughter.

"So they do," she agrees.

II

Storybrooke, present day

II

Graham wakes up on the first ring, almost throwing himself at the phone. "Yeah."

"They're back," Regina simply says. It's all he needs to hear and his heart almost leaps at the sound of it. "I'm driving them home so they can getsome rest. Will you let people know and make sure they don't get run down by visitors until tomorrow?"

"I will," Graham promises. He's already reaching for his clothes. He'll park himself outside the house if needed. In fact, he's going to do that anyway. "Thank you, Regina."

Regina is silent for a moment on the other end, but he can hear her exhale.

"You're welcome," she finally says and hangs up.

II

Somehow, they all end up going back to what Emma still thinks of as the Nolans' home. David and Mary Margaret haven't asked if she is coming and she hasn't asked if they want her to stay. Somehow it is just decided in the silence between them as they sit in the backseat with Henry's on Mary Margaret's lap and Regina drives them home.

Home, Emma considers. It actually feels like it.

Regina has been looking after Henry, Emma learns from his excited chatter. It makes David and Mary Margaret exchange a few glances and Mary Margaret looks oddly teary.

When they finally cross the threshold into the Nolan home, Emma feels it like a physical blow. It's only then that she realizes she's been holding onto a little bit of magic all along, ready to use it to keep her family safe. She staggers and David catches her, letting her lean into him as he leads her to the bathroom.

Inside, it is Mary Margaret who takes over while David slips out. Emma can hear him murmur about clothes and she can hear Regina and Henry's voices in the kitchen.

"You don't have to take care of me," Emma says as Mary Margaret undresses her. Her limbs feel leaded with weights and she can barely keep her eyes open. Her body hurts and her head hurts.

"I want to," Mary Margaret replies gently, helping her into the shower. The warm water is bliss, almost scalding and Emma just lets it run down her body. Clumsily, she uses the soap until she can't manage to keep her grip on it any longer and it falls from her grasp.

Mary Margaret is waiting with towels as she steps out, wrapping her in them and then rubbing her dry. There is a change of clothes too, David's doing probably. Pants from Mary Margaret and a t-shirt that must be David's judging by the size, and Emma puts them both on. It almost feels like taking on a new skin, a new her. Emma; David and Mary Margaret's Emma.

David is waiting outside as they exit. He puts his arm around her while Mary Margaret walks over to Regina, saying something that makes Regina almost recoil. Emma can't hear what as David is already guiding her up the stairs, one step at a time.

Then there is a bed in front of her. Henry's already asleep there, and she realizes David must have tucked him in while she was in the shower. Henry. She's with her son again.

Bed, her body seems to sing as she sinks into it, letting David be the one to tuck the blankets around her. After he's done so, he sits at the edge of the bed for a moment, stroking her hair.

"Goodnight, Emma," he says and she falls asleep to that.

II

"My mother," Regina says again. Snow has a strong urge to reach out and take Regina's hand, but she's not sure how that would be welcomed if not considered outright unwelcome.

"Yeah," Snow says. "She had allied herself with King George."

"And you left them there?"

Snow nods. "I stunned her with the ink you'd used to write Emma's name."

"Rumpelstiltskin's ink," Regina says, staring down at her hands. "I knew it had some magical properties. I hoped it would help me remember Emma's name."

"So that's why you wrote it," Snow concludes.

"So I would recognize her when she came to break the curse, yes."

For a moment they sit in silence. Snow can hear David's soft footsteps coming down the stairs and she longs to bury herself in his embrace. Regina seems to catch on, as she rises from the chair and starts heading towards the door.

"Thank you, Regina" Snow calls after her. "For looking after Henry."

Regina pauses by the door, smiling a little oddly. "You're welcome."

With that, she is gone and Snow feels a warm hand on her shoulder. David looks down at her, his gaze caressing her face as she rises.

"Come on," he says, cupping her cheek and running his thumb across her cheekbone. "You need a shower."

"Yes" she agrees, holding out her hand. He grasps it. "So do you."

With that, she takes her husband to the shower with her, and with every intention in the world to let him take her in the shower too.


	48. Chapter Forty-Seven

II

**Chapter Forty-Seven**

II

Storybrooke, present day

II

The clothes lay discarded on the floor as David steps under the spray of water. A moment later Snow steps in next to him, a look of pleasure crossing her face as the water hits her body. He just watches her for a moment, basking in the sight of her.

(There was after all a moment where he thought he would never get to see her again at all, but here she is. Here he is. Here they all are, and it fills him with such overwhelming joy that it is almost painful.)

She looks up at him, her lips slightly parted, but he knows the moment he kisses her he won't be able to stop so he forces himself to resist the urge. Oh, but he will kiss her, and soon, and the anticipation is a sort of pleasure too.

He grabs the soap and starts lathering her inch by inch. She closes her eyes to the combined caresses and washing, occasionally drawing a sharp breath or even moaning softly when he moves across a sensitive spot. He turns her around and does her back too, tracing the lines of her as the familiar and beloved territory it is.

He washes her hair next and she sighs as he massages her scalp before rinsing the shampoo out, then repeats the same procedure with the conditioner.

"You now," she murmurs softly, turning around to look at him with a gaze that makes him lick his lips. Still, he stands completely still as she takes the soap and begins brushing his skin with soapy fingers. Down his shoulders, across his chest, along his sides, down his abdomen.

She's watching his reactions through lowered eyelids and it's making it increasingly hard not to pin her against the wall right away. He focuses on breathing, but his breathing becomes increasingly rapid as her hand moves down. She's not even bothering with the soap anymore, he notices, just caressing his wet skin.

"Snow," he says, his voice throaty even to him. She puts a hand on his chest over his heart and he knows what she's thinking of. He almost lost that heart today, the heart that is equally hers by now.

Slowly, she leans forward and kisses his chest; a lingering touch while he exhales. She tilts her head up to look at him, a dark possessive look that mirrors how he feels. She's his, he's hers and it's their family and no one is allowed to harm any of them.

"Charming," she says, and the sound of his name on her lips is what shatters what remains of his control. He pins her against the wall and lowers his head to kiss her, and she links her arms around his neck and meets his lips eagerly.

He nips at her lips at first, teasing, tugging, drawing his tongue across and scraping his teeth against her lower lip. She moans in response, half in protest and half in pleasure. Pressing him closer, she draws her lower lip in-between her lips, sucking lightly on it.

He makes a sound low in his throat, parting his lips as she tilts her head and changes the angle of the kiss. Her tongue darts between his lips, brushing his tongue, teasing and licking.

He gets his own, though. He lowers his hand between them and applies a little pressure in just the right spot and the moan she makes into his mouth is delicious. She clings to him as he keeps working his fingers and he slats his mouth more firmly across hers to keep kissing her.

Showers are a rather brilliant invention he wouldn't mind having in the Enchanted Forest, he has to admit. Not that he and Snow didn't play in the bathtub sometimes (okay, more than sometimes), but the way he has warm water cascading down his back and a wet Snow pressed firmly against his front is something he would happily do again.

She bites down on his lower lip as he draws a circle with his thumb and he has to force back the urge to bury himself in her then and there. He wants her so badly it is close to painful, but he also loves her just as much if not more. So he caresses her lips with his own, keeps his free hand on her hips to keep her from bucking too much and keeps on touching her.

She slumps a little against the wall and he presses her more firmly against it and his body to keep her upright. She's moaning into his mouth, the sound of it reverberating into him and making his body hum. He can tell she's close, so close, pressing against his fingers and whimpering as he holds still for a moment.

He brushes his lips gently against hers, lovingly and almost chastely. Snow. Oh, Snow. Then he moves his fingers again and presses his thumb down, and encases her mouth with his as her body shudders and she lets go.

He swallows all the sounds she makes as he keeps kissing her, steadying her until she slowly regains control of her body. He still doesn't break the kiss, nibbling on her lips until they curve into a smile. He's vaguely aware that the water has turned colder, so he fumbles a hand in the direction of the faucets until he manages to turn the water off.

The bed is way too far off, he considers as his own body is making its urges very clear to him with Snow's body pressed flush again it. Right. Other options: sink, floor, towels?

Snow laughs softly into the kiss as he lifts her up, a joyful happy laugh he could listen to forever. Her legs lock around his waist and she takes advantage of the added height to draw her fingers through his hair and kiss him from a higher angle. She's grinding a little against him too, which is really not helping but is probably fair payback.

Towels, he decides, managing to get a few of them down on the floor and then gently lowering Snow onto them. She shifts a little underneath him as he puts his weight on his arms and angles himself. For a moment he holds still again, just feeling his heart beat wildly in his chest and her lips hold against his and her skin cling to his as if it's his second.

"Charming," she murmurs against his lips, voice throaty from what he's been doing to her, and the name she claimed him with is again the undoing of any will to hold back that he had left. She bites down on his lower lip as he thrusts into her in one motion, her body then pressing against him as if she would have him deeper.

Snow, he thinks, as she licks into him and clenches her muscles around him at the same time. Impatient, beloved, possessive Snow, meeting his thrusts and kisses and egging him on. This isn't going to be slow and drawn out, lazy Sunday morning sex, he already knows. This is going to be quick and hard and affirming that they're both here, both alive.

He kisses her a touch sloppily as his pace quickens while her fingers scrape along the skin of his arms and will probably leave marks. He doesn't care. All he cares about is the sensation of her drowning out everything else. Her lips feel swollen as he draws his tongue across them; he knows his are. He can feel her rapid breathing too from how her breasts rise and sink against his chest. Maybe, maybe...

He eases himself down on an elbow to free one hand and lowers it between them where their bodies are joined. His fingers feel clumsy but he manages to draw moans and similar noises from her nevertheless. As he draws almost out of her, he pushes his thumb firmly against her and then thrusts into her and loses it.

So does she, he can feel against his hand and her mouth slides free of his at last to bite down on his shoulder. He closes his eyes as everything is bodily sensations and her, very her.

As he regains his senses, he shifts slightly onto his side to keep the weight off her, then sits up with his back against the wall. She nestles against him, drawing her fingers across his chest over his heart as he pulls a towel over and wraps it around them both.

They're going to get cold and uncomfortable very soon, he knows, but for a moment he just wants to hold her right here.

"Snow," he says softly.

"Mmm," she replies, her eyes sliding shut. He kisses her eyelids, brushing a few strands of wet hair from cheek. "Your heart."

"Hmm?"

"Don't ever lose it again," she says sleepily, putting her palm against his chest above his heart. He imagines his heartbeats sinking into her skin and mingling with her own, two hearts beating in tandem. A team, him and her, his heart and hers.

"I won't," he promises, kissing her temple. Wrapping another towel around himself, he then lifts her up and carries her across the dark apartment and to bed. He leaves her there for a few minutes while he goes back to clean the bathroom quickly and collect their clothes, lest Emma or even Henry ask some awkward questions in the morning.

When he returns, he sees that Snow has slipped into one of his shirts and below the covers. She's still awake though, watching him through lowered eyelids as he pulls on his pajamas pants and doesn't bother with anything else. She reaches for him the moment he moves into bed, pulling him close. He shifts onto his back and eases her halfway across him, wrapping himself in Snow and blankets alike.

The fatigue he's been fighting off finally claims him and he closes his eyes to the joy of having his family safe. He's alive, they're all alive and back together. He has his wife in his arms while his daughter and his son (and also his daughter's son) are sleeping upstairs. His family, all right here.

With that thought and a smile on his lips, he finally falls asleep.


	49. Chapter Forty-Eight

II

**Chapter Forty-Eight**

II

Storybrooke, present day

II

Gold finds Belle and Ruby drinking merrily in a closed-for-the-night Granny's Diner and for a few minutes he just lets himself watch. Belle is actually laughing happily, a sound he hasn't heard for a long time and could listen to forever.

Magic works differently here, he thinks. She has only his heart and yet she's making it her own. He can feel it. He can feel that part of his heart gain light and life.

He knocks on the door and a moment later Ruby opens it. She lets him in without comment, something he attributes to the good mood she's in but perhaps also the way Belle is beaming at him.

"Regina told you the good news, I take it," he says. "The Charming little family found their way back."

"No thanks to you," Ruby adds. Perhaps her good mood wasn't that good after all.

"He would have helped," Belle says firmly. It's a command more than a statement, but it still makes him smile. "We're going to have a welcome home party for them tomorrow."

"Am I invited?" he asks drily. Ruby makes a face. "I thought not. Don't worry, I shall let them have their day. They have earned it."

One day, after all. They can have one day. Then it is time to find his son – and use Henry Nolan to do so.

II

It isn't quite morning when Emma wakes with a dry mouth and a vague headache. It is still way too early she can tell from the lack of light in the room as she blinks. Vague memories of magic, fighting and David's heart slam into her and her head jerks up. No, she's safe now. They're all safe. She's at the Nolans' place and Henry is sleeping by her side.

She reaches out to touch him and he sighs in his sleep. Henry. She's made her way back to him and she got her parents – and his parents – back with her.

She can't help but smile faintly, ruffling Henry's hair before rising from the bed. As quietly as she can, she slips downstairs. The kitchen and combined living room is quiet and dark, but she finds her way to the sink and has a glass of water.

An urge to see her parents keeps nagging at her and she can't quite bite it back, so carefully she makes her way over to their bedroom and edges the door open.

They are sleeping. Mary Margaret's head is tucked under David's chin and he has his arms around her. Their faces are peaceful as they sleep, and it makes Emma feel strangely at peace too. She lets herself watch them for a moment longer, memorizing the sight.

(She doesn't let herself linger on the pile of clothes by the bed that includes discarded underwear and she especially doesn't linger on what that probably attests to.)

Then she closes the door. The headache still isn't gone, so with a sigh she grabs one of David's large coats and heads out into the fresh air. The night sky isn't completely dark, but there is no sign of the sun yet. The lights of Storybrooke make the stars seem dimmer than they were in the Enchanted Forest, but they are also a safer sight.

No ogres, no sorceresses and no evil asshole kings anywhere.

There is however a very familiar car parked across the street and Emma just watches it until the door finally opens and Graham walks out. He just seems to drink her in for a moment, smiling. She folds her arms to keep the coat more firmly around her, very conscious that she's wearing sweat pants and a too large shirt and that they're her parents' clothes to boot.

Graham doesn't care. He walks decisively across the street, keeping his eyes on her the whole time, and cups her cheek and then kisses her.

For a moment she just lets him, lets his lips be soft and caressing against her own while his fingers lace themselves in her hair. Easier that way, easier to have it all be him and to keep all her walls up.

Then she thinks of her family in the house behind her. They're not easy. Just the family tree is complicated enough to cause a headache and that's not even getting into the age thing. No, they're definitely not easy.

They're also worth every difficulty she's endured so far and then some. They have sneaked past her walls and moved into her castle and she now can't imagine home and life without them.

So she kisses Graham right back; screw easy, in fact.

II

In the darkness, no one in Storybrooke notices the portal and the small ship that exits it, and soon it is lost among the other vessels in the harbor anyway.

Just a little ship, after all.

What harm could that do?

II

Snow wakes from the noise to find that her husband is already out of bed and picking up his sword, looking like he's ready to take on an ogre or charge a whole army.

"What is it?" she asks alarmed, trying to remember where she left her bow.

"Look!" Charming says indignantly. He points at the window with his sword and she lifts the curtain to look outside.

Oh. Her daughter and the huntsman, making out on a sidewalk.

"Charming," she says softly, looking up at her sword-bearing, bare-chested, pajama-pants clad husband with affection. "Don't be an idiot."

He lowers his sword, but his glare has lost none of its edge. "That's our daughter."

"Yeah," she agrees, closing the curtain again but remaining sitting upright. "That's our adult daughter who can make her own choices. She appears to have chosen him."

Charming draws a sharp breath. "I just want to protect her. I just want her to..."

"Be happy and safe and have everything she wants?" she finishes.

"Yes."

She nods, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Me too. But Charming, wielding a sword for her isn't going to do all that."

"I know," he admits, finally putting the sword down and sittingon the edge of the bed, looking almost sad. She moves over to cradle his head in her hands and kiss his temple.

"Charming?"

"Mmm?"

"If he hurts her, then you bring the sword and I'll bring my bow."

He laughs, shifting his gaze to her. "I love you."

"I love you too," she murmurs. He regards her through slightly lowered eyelids a moment longer, and then leans forward and kisses her gently. She puts her arms around his neck as he scoots them both back against the pillows, still kissing her slowly and leisurely.

Mmm, she thinks faintly, her body already forgetting she is tired. Plus, this will keep him from barging out there with a sword - and it will also keep her from barging out there and knocking Graham out with a rock.

II

It is Graham who finally breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against hers. His breathing is a little labored, but then, so is hers she notices now that she finally pays attention to it.

He can kiss, she'll give him that.

"I'd invite you in but..." she starts.

"Your parents would kill me," he finishes.

"That too," she agrees, thinking of her parents taking down ogres. "But Henry's asleep and I should be too."

"Yeah," he says, taking a step back and looking at her. "I'll keep watch. You get some sleep, deputy."

"I don't take orders from people I kiss," she informs him with a raised eyebrow.

"We're going to have a problem then," he says, raising an eyebrow as well. "Because I would like to keep kissing you and not have to fire you."

"This isn't a problem," she informs him, taking a step backwards as he regards her. "I wasn't taking orders from you in the first place so nothing's changed in that regard."

He watches her as she walks back inside; she can feel his gaze on her back. Graham. She could blame it on the fatigue, but she won't. He does make her feel something, something she hasn't felt since – since Neal.

No, she decides firmly. She's not going to think about Neal. She's never going to see him again. He is not a part of her life.

Henry is though, a very large part now, and so she walks back up the stairs to join her son.

II

This world is different, but her husband hasn't changed, Cora reflects coldly. He is what he's always been and equally what he's never been. In his hospital bed he seems almost weak and fragile, but the nurse she asked said he'd made a miraculous recovery and was due to go home.

Magic, Cora is certain. Her daughter's magic. He was the one who convinced Regina to ask for mercy from Snow White and her prince. He is the one Regina loves still.

And if she were to lose that, what then, Regina?

Cora smiles softly, leaning forward to kiss her husband's forehead. At the same time, she lifts her hand and drops a bit of the powder into his glass of water. It is absorbed immediately and for all the world to see, it's just a glass of water.

It is poison that will kill. Slowly and surely, it will kill.

What then, Regina?

Cora intends to find out.


	50. Chapter Forty-Nine

II

**Chapter Forty-Nine**

II

Storybrooke, present day

II

Snow wakes abruptly, drawing in a sharp breath and half rising. It takes her a moment to realize she's not in the Enchanted Forest, that Emma and David are safe and that they've all come home to Henry. It was just a vague nightmare she had. They're all safe.

It is morning, she can tell from the light streaming through the curtains. Charming is sleeping on his stomach beside her, a hand across her abdomen. The sight makes her smile softly. His hair is mussed – her doing that she takes pride in rather than blame for – and he's breathing slowly and steadily as he sleeps.

Carefully, she frees herself from his touch and rises from the bed without waking him. Digging through the closet, she locates a robe and puts it on. They could probably all use a proper breakfast and the thought of cooking it for and having it with her whole family fills her with a quiet joy.

She walks into the kitchen only to find Emma has beaten her to it and is having an epic battle with the toaster. For a moment she just watches her daughter, this grown woman that is her daughter, and it strikes her just how much she's missed. Too much. They can never quite regain that. This will never be her child. Her daughter, yes, but not her child.

Then she forces herself to smile. At least they are together now. Clinging to loss never does any good. Regina taught her that, after all.

"Good morning, Emma," Snow says brightly and Emma whips around, then smiles hesitantly.

"I was going to make you all breakfast," Emma says, shifting her feet a little. "But I think your toaster hates me."

"It just needs to get to know you," Snow replies lightly. "Give it a few mornings."

Emma looks at her with clear eyes that, for a moment, seem so very alike her own that it's dizzying. "Still want me to live here then?"

"More than ever," Snow says sincerely. She steps forward, trying to remain casual and being well aware she's probably failing. But at least she's trying. David would give her points for that. After teasing her for failing, of course.

"Okay," Emma says slowly after what feels forever. "But I am buying a new toaster."

Snow nods, then impulsively steps forward and hugs Emma to her with the toaster still between them. Emma stiffens, but then cautiously hugs her back. It makes Snow smile.

"Good morning, David," Emma says and Snow shifts slightly in the embrace to see her husband smile at them both. He looks happy, but she can see the slightly bittersweet look in his eyes too.

"Good morning, Emma. Sno-Mary Margaret," he greets them. "So I hear there are relationship issues with the toaster?"

Emma chuckles, slipping out of the hug and Snow feels a moment of loss. "I don't think it's true love for us."

David nods seriously, giving Snow a wink. "True love isn't easy to find. How about we go toaster shopping tomorrow?"

As Emma agrees with a laugh, Henry comes barging down the stairs as well, looking for a moment like he feared they wouldn't be there. Snow puts an arm around him and hugs him lightly, and he smiles up at her.

"I guess my plan to make breakfast for you is a bust," Emma says. She gives Henry a smile that he eagerly returns. David lifts his hand and draws it across Snow's back, a light touch. Their family, she knows he's thinking. Their family is all here.

"How about we all make breakfast together?" David suggests.

So they do.

II

Regina can hear happy sounds from the Nolans' even before she knocks and it fills her with a number of conflicting emotions. Somewhere inside her the Evil Queen hisses, but that part of her hasn't been the loudest for a long time.

So when David opens the door, Regina is smiling.

"Regina," he greets her. Not exactly happily, but not with hostility either.

"Henry left a few things at my place," she says, holding out the backpack. David accepts, still regarding her calmly. Behind him, she can see Emma and Henry laugh, while Snow is walking over.

"Thank you," Snow says. She gives David a look and some sort of silent communication passes between them before he nods and walks back to the kitchen. "I was hoping to talk to you today."

"You seem to be succeeding," Regina suggests drily.

"It's Emma," Snow says hesitantly. "She has magic."

"Magic?" Regina lifts her gaze over Snow's shoulder to give Emma brief look. "The savior. Of course."

"You expected that?"

"No. I am just not surprised by it."

Snow nods slowly. She seems to be choosing her words carefully. "I was hoping you would teach her."

"Teach her?" Regina echoes. She feels as if the wind has been knocked out of her for a moment. "Teach her magic? You would trust me with that?"

"Yes," Snow says, lifting her head a little.

"I suppose your other option being Rumpelstiltskin means I shouldn't let it go to my head," Regina says after a moment, adding just enough sarcasm to her voice that it should be a sufficient disguise.

"Will you?" Snow simply asks.

"I'll talk to her," Regina says. "It will have to be her choice."

Snow nods again. "We're having a party at Granny's tonight. Ruby called to tell me about it. You're welcome to come. I'm sure Henry would love it."

"And you?" Regina asks. She can't help it.

"I would like it," Snow says and this time, it's Regina who nods slowly, not really trusting her voice.

II

After breakfast, Emma vanishes out the door to head to work as long as Graham lets her (which David has a feeling will not be long) and then Granny's to pick up her things. David does the dishes while Snow wishes Henry a good day, kissing his head before shooing him into the bathroom. That leaves David alone with Snow and he takes the opportunity to leave the dishes to dry on their own and snake his arms around her from behind. She smiles and leans back against him.

"I'm going to head over to Granny's and see Red," she tells him after a moment. He smiles, seeing his wife's affection for her friend-slash-almost-sister in her bright face. It is strange to consider that they've lived in this town for 28 years and Ruby has been a stranger to them all that time. She should have been family.

"It'll be good spending time with Henry today," he says, smiling at the prospect.

"For him too," she says softly.

"You think so?" he asks, and she tilts her head to look at him.

"You are still his dad, and now you're Prince Charming to boot," she points out. He chuckles at that, kissing her nose.

"Meet you here before we head to Granny's for the party?" he suggests.

"It's a date," she agrees, kissing him briefly. He follows her over to the door, helping her slip on her coat before stealing another kiss as she heads out. As he turns around, Henry is watching him eagerly.

"How do you feel about you and me having a day together?" David asks, feeling slightly anxious despite Snow's reassuring words. In a strange way, his memories returning and Emma's return to them have made him more self-conscious about being a father.

He was Emma's father for only five minutes and now that he is Charming again as well as David Nolan, he feels all new as a father again.

"Awesome!" Henry says. "What are we going to do? We've already fought a dragon."

"Henry, that was dangerous, not awesome," David corrects, picking up his coat and then Henry's.

"Aren't the two the same?" Henry asks innocently.

"Not always," David says, thinking of a few dangerous adventures he and Snow have had and a few awesome adventures he and Snow have had. A few of them overlap, true, but not all. Just most of them.

"If you say so," Henry says skeptically. "So what are doing?"

"You're the son of a prince. And grandson," David says, putting his arm around Henry as they walk out. "I think it's time you learned how to use a sword."

"Awesome!" Henry says happily and David has to smile at his son's enthusiasm. Yeah. Henry is definitely his son in that one aspect, at least.

II

"Good morning!" Emma says briskly, sitting down on the desk as Graham looks up at her. She plants two big cups of coffee there. "Coffee. For you, this time."

"What did I do to deserve this?"

"Stay up all night."

"That's all it takes to earn coffee from you, huh?" he jokes and she smiles. "I would tell you to take today off, but since I am only your boss, I am guessing you'll just ignore it?"

"Too right," she replies, sliding off his desk. He swallows a vague sense of disappointment as he was entertaining serious fantasies of kissing her on that very desk. "But you can come to the party tonight."

"Party?"

"At Granny's. A sort of welcome home party."

"You want me to come?" he asks and for a moment Emma looks like he's about to make light of it, offer a joke or something. Then she just nods.

II

A father and son fighting with wooden swords. It's quite a touching sight; anyone watching would have to admit.

Anyone who wasn't King George.

David teaching his son to fight like a prince, not herding sheep like the shepherd he is. Still playing at the role he failed. Still having his little family.

That's going to change. George will see to it.


	51. Chapter Fifty

II

**Chapter Fifty**

II

Storybrooke, present day

II

The party at Granny's is a rather crowded affair in the end, Emma finds.

There is Regina bringing lasagne and the cookies she says Henry came to love while staying with her, there is Graham without a badge but with beer, there is Ruby beaming at Snow and Charming, there is Granny and pointed remarks, there are the seven guys that apparently make up the seven dwarfs, there is a blonde woman called Abigail who brings her husband, there is Archie Hopper and his dog that Henry seems to have a special love for, there is Belle who looks relieved enough that it qualifies as joy and every now and then someone else pops into the door to wish welcome home.

They are here for her parents, Emma is fairly sure. Her parents apparently made many friends and earned the love of many, and it makes her feel a little odd. She just found her parents. She doesn't really want to share.

Then there is the strange awe people seem to regard her with. They don't know her, so it is as if her mere existence makes her worthy of being regarded with awe. Emma isn't sure she likes that. She also isn't sure she hates it. She's not used to people treating her mere existence as something wonderful.

The food is good, though. She brought decent-tasting tacos Graham helped her fix up and Regina's cookies as are as good as Henry said. The cake Archie brought is quite nice and Graham keeps her plied with a steady supply of beers.

She needs the alcohol, after all. David started the evening with a speech thanking everyone for coming, and introducing her as their beloved daughter before making jokes about the family motto and finding each other and that made her want to hug him and tell him to shut up at the same time.

Mary Margaret has hugged her at least four times already, Henry at least six while David has looked at her in a way that says as a thousand hugs wouldn't be enough. It is disconcerting. It is also kind of wonderful.

It also reminds her the last time she felt like she might finally have found a home – Neal – she was abandoned. She can't trust something like this, but oh, how she wants to.

(There is Graham too, just looking at her the whole evening and earning fierce stares from David for it. Just looking, sure, but Graham might as well be touching her from how it makes her feel.)

As it gets later in the evening, several people start wandering home, some more drunk than others. Granny puts on some music at Belle's request, and Emma soon finds herself watching the dancing going on. Regina dances with Henry before excusing herself due to a call from the hospital about her father; Belle and Leroy attempt a jig and then there's her parents. Sure, it may be called dancing, but it could also be called 'feeling-each-other-up-while-moving-in-circles-and -gazing', she's pretty sure.

Somehow, she finds it doesn't bother her. Maybe it's the beer, maybe it's Graham looking like he wants to do the same to her or maybe it's Henry's exaggerated bow as he requests a dance – whatever it is, she is feeling good.

It can't last, she warns herself – but somehow, she wishes so very dearly that it would.

II

"Rumpel!"

He turns, seeing Belle come running out of the diner. She has color in her cheeks, stars in her eyes and a spring in her step. She's simply lovely.

"I thought I saw you," she goes on as she draws closer.

"I was just passing by. I didn't mean to intrude," he replies. Maybe his passing by wasn't all that accidental, of course, and Belle looks at him as if she knows that very well.

Maybe he just wanted to see what happiness looked like.

"Dance with me," she says, holding out her hand. He can hear the faint music from Granny's, but he still hesitates. "Please?"

Maybe even the Dark One can have a stolen moment of happiness, he thinks, and takes her hand.

II

"But he was doing better!" Regina's voice cuts through Henry Mills' pain and he gazes up to see his daughter arguing with Dr. Whale.

"I don't know what to tell you," Dr. Whale says apologetically. "It is as if..."

"Magic," Regina whispers darkly. Henry can feel her take his hand, feel something wash over him and then her agonized gasp. "I can't heal him."

"Regina," he murmurs, struggling to keep his eyes open. "It's okay."

"No!" she says fiercely. He can feel her tears as he weakly lifts a hand to touch her cheek.

"I've had my time," he says. He has. More time than he could have asked for, all things considered. "All I wanted was to see you happy again."

"Father," she gasps. "I love you."

"Then love again," he pleads. "Don't forget who you are. Please, Regina."

She draws a sharp, ragged breath. "I want to. I want to love Daniel again. All I need is a heart but I can't take someone else's. I can't do that anymore. I'm not that person anymore. I can't just take one."

"Take mine," he murmurs, putting her hand on his chest. "I'm sorry I wasn't a good enough father for you. But my heart was always yours. Take it."

"Father..." she pleads. His hand slips from hers; he doesn't have the strength to hold on. He tries to keep his eyes open, to look at her with as much love as she always should have, but it's getting darker.

"Please take it," he says again and then he sees nothing at all.

II

David carries a sleeping Henry through the streets as they head home while Snow has her hand tucked in the crook of his arm and Emma is holding Henry's hand. Anyone passing would have them pegged as a family, and the thought makes David smile. They are. They're becoming.

Snow smiles at him as if she knows what he's thinking, which she probably does. She looks happy too, and as he steals a glance at Emma, he realizes that so does their daughter.

All he could ever want for her.

A few boxes are placed just inside the door as they enter their home. They're Emma's: making it official that she's moving in. Not a lot to bring to a home, he reflects, but as far as he's concerned the only thing she'd need to bring to be perfect would be herself.

"I'll unpack tomorrow," Emma says self-consciously, but Snow just smiles and takes her hand.

"Take as long as you need," Snow says warmly. Emma nods, leaning forward and kissing Henry's forehead gently.

"Goodnight, kid," Emma says. As David heads up the stairs with a still sleeping Henry he catches the two women of his life hugging in the corner of his eye. It's quite breathtaking, and he hasn't quite regained his breath as he tucks Henry in.

Henry blinks sleepily. "Dad?"

"Just go to sleep," David says softly. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay," Henry agrees easily, closing his eyes again. "Love you, dad."

"Love you too," David whispers, kissing his son's forehead. "Thanks for finding Emma for us."

Henry sighs softly, lost to dreams again probably. David hopes they're good ones. After all, their son has brought them so much happiness that can never repaid; both by simply existing and by bringing their daughter home to them.

Henry, he thinks lovingly. Then he heads downstairs to join his wife and his daughter.

II

"I'm sorry for your loss," Dr. Whale says, but Regina is barely listening.

Her father is gone. Her father. The one who has always loved her. Not perfectly, not enough to be a better father, but he did love her. She loved him enough to turn from being the Evil Queen into being what she's still defining.

Now he is gone.

She closes her eyes briefly, then opens them again.

Her father was killed by magic. There is only one currently in Storybrooke she could think would want to hurt her like that. One who wields the magic that might be able to do this.

_Rumpelstiltskin._

II

Her daughter likes cinnamon on her cocoa just like her, Snow finds out, and files it under essential facts about Emma she should have had a long time ago but at least has now.

David teases them both lightly about their taste, but does take it for his cup of cocoa as well. And so they chat about hot beverages and planned toaster shopping tomorrow and Emma walking Henry to the school bus in the morning. It's so normal and domestic and yet something they've never had before.

Charming squeezes Snow's leg under the table as if he knows and he probably does, since it the same for him.

"I better get some sleep," Emma says after the second cup of hot cocoa. She gives them a hesitant but sincere smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Emma," Snow replies. Charming echoes the sentiment and they both watch their daughter ascend the stairs until she's out of sight.

David closes his eyes for a moment after Emma has disappeared. "Our daughter is kind of wonderful."

"Yeah," Snow agrees softly. She remembers how dearly he wanted a boy and yet how he fell in love with his daughter the moment he looked at her. And now he's falling all over again, as she is.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," David says softly. He looks troubled. "What was King George talking about? He cursed you to never bear children?"

She swallows. She had somehow hoped he wouldn't bring this up, had hoped to spare him this pain, but she will not lie to him. "He captured me and put something in my drink that made me barren."

"But we had Emma," David says, sounding slightly confused.

"Yes. It was the water from Lake Nostros that did it. Ruth had Lancelot put it in the wedding chalice, the one we both drank from."

David stares at her with wide eyes, the truth sinking in. "That's why it didn't heal her. She never drank the water."

"No," Snow confirms. "I didn't know. I swear I didn't. I wanted that water for her. She was your mother."

He lowers his head as she takes his hand. "She told me. She told me she would give her life gladly for my happiness."

"She did," Snow says. She slips from her chair to move over to him, cradling his head against her chest. "I'm so sorry, David."

"Don't be," he says softly, lifting his head to look up at her. "I think I understand her now. For Emma, for Henry, I would... I understand."

So does she, Snow thinks, and kisses the father of her children with all the love and comfort she can muster. Yes, she understands.

For their children, parents can do even the unthinkable.


	52. Chapter Fifty-One

II

**Chapter Fifty-One**

II

Present day

II

Belle hums softly on a song as she walks down the street, Rumpelstiltskin's hand holding hers is such a gentle touch she can barely feel it. But it is a touch and he hasn't let go.

She feels almost happy, she realizes. The heart that she has claimed as hers is beating soundly in her chest and the music they've danced to seems to still reverberate in her skin. Snow, Charming and their daughter are back home and she doesn't have to feel guilty about getting them to save Killian anymore.

She could be happy, she thinks. She really could. She believes it.

"Belle," Rumpel says softly, halting their walk and taking both her hands in his. "I am going to be busy for a little while."

"With what?" she asks. He is up to something, she can tell it from the look in his eyes. But there is no anger there so she relaxes slightly. Perhaps it isn't going after Killian again or causing grief some other way.

"Finding my son," he breathes. "I have to find my son."

She nods. For the son. Even her heart was lost in the name of the son. She hasn't quite forgiven, but she does understand loving someone enough to desperately search for them. "I hope you find him."

"I will," he promises. He lifts her hands and kisses them reverently. "I have a way."

"After you have found him, what then?" she asks.

For a moment, he looks so lost it almost staggers her. Him, the Dark One, looks utterly lost and even terrified. Just for a moment, but it's a moment too long.

"I don't know," he simply says.

II

Neal wakes from his dream abruptly, panting. It is the same one as always, the one where his father lets go. Only it isn't a nightmare. It's a memory turned into a recurring dream that seems to never quite let go. Even now, so long after, it still hits him now and then.

It hit him enough to let Emma go. Fear of his father as well as all the things August told him about her destiny. He hopes she is happy now, wherever she is. Happy and reunited with her parents.

Her parents loved her enough to give up everything for her. His didn't. His mother left. His father chose power over him.

That is a sort of waking nightmare to be living in, Neal figures and gives up on sleep.

II

Regina stands in her bedroom and feels lost.

Tomorrow, it will be official. The news will be out that Henry Mills has passed away and people will offer condolences with varying degrees of sincerity. He was an old man, many will think. His time had come.

But it hadn't. It wasn't his time. She had done all she could to prolong his time, to keep him with her. Her father. He was all she had, truly had, and now he is gone. Lost to her.

Now she feels lonely. She misses Henry, young Henry Nolan, fiercely, she finds. It's like an ache in her heart,a physical pain on top of the grief. He was only with her a few days but it still filled her life with something she didn't even know she wanted.

A family. Now it is just her and that won't make a family. That just makes her lonely. Regina Mills, all alone.

No. No, she won't let that stand. No.

II

Snow leads her husband by the hand through the dark to their bed. He looks a little lost – lost to memories and old griefs become new – and her heart hurts for him. She may have lost much in her life but he has as well. His father, his mother, a brother he never know. His daughter was lost to him for 28 years too.

"Charming," she says lovingly as he sits down on the bed. He looks up at her, his eyes a dimmed blue without any light to catch them. Gently, she places herself in his lap and brushes her lips against his.

He makes a noise that sounds like a choked sob that tears into her heart. She keeps her lips pressed softly against his while brushing her thumb across his cheekbone; offering what comfort in touches she can.

What Ruth did for him, he would do for Emma, she knows. That doesn't ease the grief, it merely adds another aspect to it.

He makes another choked noise into the kiss, then he kisses her back with fervor. His mouth covers hers and his lips tugs insistently on hers. She is gentle in return, with light caresses on his skin as he lowers them both on the bed.

As she shifts a little underneath him, he pulls back to look at her. His gaze is tender, but she can see the need behind it too. Tonight, he needs her, needs the comfort she can offer.

"Snow," he whispers lovingly.

"I'm right here," she whispers back and reaches up to kiss him.

II

"Emma," Henry whispers and Emma wakes abruptly, blinking up at him. He puts dad's candle on the night-table next to her, careful not to put it up. It captures the nightmares, after all. Dad told him that.

"Henry," she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep. She still smiles at him. "What's wrong?"

"Just a bad dream," he says. That is the truth, after all. Bad dreams fade. He just has to be brave until they do.

"Nightmares, huh?" Emma says, shifting further into the bed so Henry can lay down next to her. "Mary Margaret told me about them."

"Oh." He considers that, wondering if Emma still thinks he's brave even if the nightmares scare him. "Do you ever have bad dreams?"

"Yeah, kid," she says.

That makes him feel a bit better. So does her arm slipping around him. He feels safe, like he would in mom and dad's bed. Now he has another bed to go to as well.

"Do you want me to get David and Mary Margaret?" she asks after a while. He thinks of mom and dad probably resting and how worried they would be if he told them about the nightmare. He watches Emma's smile as she looks at him too.

"No," he says. "Not if I can stay here tonight."

"Of course," she says and her smile stays. "It'll be our secret. Henry and Emma's secret sleep-over."

"Operation Koala," he suggests and she gives him a look. "Koalas sleep a lot."

"Operation Koala then," she agrees and she closes her eyes again. He waits until her breath steadies and she is sleeping again as he's not sure she's ready to hear this yet.

"Love you, mom," he whispers. "Mom Emma."

He gives the candle one last look to check that it is still burning and then he closes his eyes to sleep too.

He doesn't dream again that night.

II

When she had nightmares after the sleeping curse, Charming would ease her back to sleep with soft words and gentle touches, or keep her awake with demanding kisses and possessive hands across her body when she didn't wish to sleep again.

What she needed, he would give.

Now he needs and she gives; kissing him while her hands caress every inch of his skin, loving him with her body just as readily as she does with her heart.

"I love you," she whispers and then kisses it into his skin.

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_David is crying again. Carefully, Ruth eases out of bed without waking her husband and walks over to the crib. She is already singing softly as she lifts David up. It's a lullaby her mother taught her and David quiets as she keeps singing._

_He is a wonderful child, she has already decided. Wonderful for simply being her son. She is going to raise him with love enough for two._

_Of course, it should have been two. Perhaps that is why David is crying. Perhaps he misses the brother he was born with, the brother no longer sharing the crib. The child they gave away. James._

_At the thought of that, the guilt chokes her and the lullaby dies away. David blinks at her as if disappointed. She presses a kiss to his forehead, hoping he'll never have to face such a choice. To give a child up for its own good or not – that is a terrible choice no parent should ever have to face. Yet she has and she would do it again._

_For the good of both David and James, she gave up James. Now all she can do is make David's life the best it can be._

_"I love you, my son," she whispers and David falls back asleep at that._

II

Present day

II

Emma walks into the sheriff station that morning with what she knows is a spring in her step and she can't even be bothered disguising it. Graham smiles up at her and offers her a good morning. It makes her happy and give serious consideration to inviting him somewhere for breakfast and then devouring him rather than food. Somewhere David wouldn't find them, of course. She wouldn't want Graham to get beheaded, after all.

The phone rings. She picks it up, seeing from the contact picture that it is David. Oh. The toaster buying adventure they have planned today. She had almost forgotten. "Hey David."

"Emma," Davis says. She can tell something is wrong instantly from the tone in his voice. "Did you walk Henry to the school bus today?"

"Yeah. Mary Margaret suggested it, I wasn't..."

"I know. I remember," he cuts in and she can hear a touch of desperation in his voice now, as if he can't suppress it any longer. Something is very wrong. "But Emma, Henry isn't at school and no one has seen him all morning. We don't know where he is."

She should have known, she thinks distantly. She was feeling good, she was feeling happy. She should have known.

It never lasts.


	53. Chapter Fifty-Two

II

**Chapter Fifty-Two**

II

_Storybrooke, the past_

II

_This is it, seven-year-old Henry Nolan thinks. This is the Storybrooke city line. The sign says so, after all. Beyond it, the world waits. He's never seen the world, never been out of Storybrooke, never had an adventure._

_He wants to. Mom always reads him stories and dad always retells them with the details all wrong - and Henry would like to be in one now. One he can tell to mom and dad._

_One, he thinks, taking a deep breath. Two. Two and a half. Thr..._

_"Henry!"_

_He turns around to see dad come running towards him while the truck is parked further down the road. Dad looks a little angry, pausing just in front of him. Then dad takes a deep breath and kneels down._

_"Henry, what are you doing?" he asks gently._

_"I wanted an adventure," Henry confesses. Dad just looks at him. "All heroes have adventures."_

_"But heroes also have moms who'll get worried when you skip school without even telling her," dad says and Henry feels a little ashamed. He hadn't thought about mom or dad being worried. He just thought about his adventure. "She called me. Henry, what were you thinking not telling us?"_

_"I'm sorry," he says. Dad nods._

_"Henry, one day you will have your adventure. I promise."_

_"Won't you and mom still be worried?"_

_"We'll always be worried," dad says, lifting him up. "That's what parents do. Come on, how about we have an adventure together in the stables today? Just you and me?"_

_Henry nods, but he keeps watching the sign as dad puts him on the shoulders and carries him back to the car._

_One day, he thinks._

II

Present day

II

He's crossing the town line, Henry realizes groggily. His head feels slow, as if thinking is happening in slow motion, and his eyelids keep falling down. But he can make out the sign Storybrooke sign through what looks like a car window.

Car. He is in a car. He can feel it and hear it and even vaguely see it if he forces his eyes open as far as he can manage.

He's in a car and it's driving out of Storybrooke. This isn't dad's car either, or mom Emma's. This is a car he doesn't know.

He's leaving Storybrooke in a car he doesn't know. This is either adventure or trouble, Henry knows. Or maybe it's both.

He closes his eyes again, unable to keep them open any longer. He thinks briefly of how worried mom, dad and mom Emma will be.

Then he doesn't think again for a long time.

II

David and Mary Margaret marches into the sheriff station with faces filled with worry and determination equally, and Emma knows her own face is a mirror of them both.

Mary Margaret has brought a bow, is the next thing Emma notices. A bow and a quiver of arrow, in fact. Somehow it still looks natural on her. Then Emma notices David with a sword strapped to his waist and realizes that for her parents, this is normal.

This is how they know how to fight.

Mary Margaret puts the bow down and pulls Emma into a hug without saying anything. It's just mutual comfort and a moment later David puts his arms around them both. Emma closes her eyes and lets herself just feel the embrace for a moment. Then she takes a deep breath and pulls back.

"I walked him to that school bus this morning. I saw him off," she says. Mary Margaret and David both nod, accepting it without question.

"He has skipped school before," David says. But Emma can hear in his voice that he doesn't believe his this is the case.

"If someone took him, they would have done it when he got off the bus," Emma reasons. Someone. Whoever that someone is, she's going to make sure they regret it.

"I'll head over there and talk to people," Graham interjects. Emma gives him a look and she can see in the corner of her eye that so do Mary Margaret and David. "You're all too emotionally invested and you're quite scary right now too. I'll talk to people."

Scary, Emma thinks and folds her arms across her chest. She has no idea what he's talking about.

II

The phone rings. Regina just lets it at first, watching it dully. When it doesn't let up, she finally reaches for it and answers testily. "Hello?"

"Regina," Mary Margaret says. "I heard about your loss this morning. I am sorry."

Regina just nods automatically, then realizes Mary Margaret can't see it. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry to disturb you," Mary Margaret goes on and now Regina can really hear the strong tone of desperation shining through. "But Henry, our Henry, is missing."

She's already lost one Henry, Regina thinks. She's not going to lose another.

"Where from?" she asks, standing up and reaching for her coat.

II

While Graham questions the bus driver and some of the children on the bus, Emma stalks around the area like a tiger wanting to pounce, David notices. It reminds him so much of Snow it makes him a little happy in-between the anger and worry too.

Henry, he thinks painfully.

Mary Margaret leans into him and he rubs her back absentmindedly. They'll find Henry. They have to. For Emma's sake as well and he looks over at their daughter again. He can feel the worry radiating from her just like he can from Mary Margaret.

Emma is becoming a mother, he thinks. His little girl is becoming a mother. It makes him feel old and yet not old enough at the same time.

"He got off the bus," Graham says as he walks over to them. "No one has seen him after that."

David nods automatically. He thinks about last time Henry went missing. That time he came back with Emma. This time, David isn't sure anything good will come from it.

Regina is hurrying toward them, he notices in the corner of her eye and looks up. She's dressed all in black and he remembers Snow told him that Regina's father had died during the night. And yet Regina hurried here as soon as Snow called about Henry. He wonders what that might mean.

"Regina," Snow says. Regina looks at her briefly as I to acknowledge her, then shifts her gaze to the ground. She holds out a hand and David can see the magic in the air. Emma looks up sharply and then stares intently as if trying to work out the spell.

"Henry was here," Regina says decisively. She closes her eyes and focuses, turning around from the school. "He went this way."

As Regina walks, they all hesitantly follow. She leads them across the street and to an empty parking spot. A car could have been parked there this morning, David supposes. A car that is now gone and Henry is gone too.

"Henry would never willingly go with a stranger," Mary Margaret says, clutching the fabric of his shirt fiercely.

"He wouldn't," David agrees. "But what if it was someone he knew?"

II

"Here, drink," a voice says and Henry blinks, vision slowly returning to him. As his gaze focuses, he sees Mr. Gold leaning across from the driving seat while holding out a bottle. The car is standing still at the moment, but Henry has no idea where they are.

He accepts the bottle hesitantly, but doesn't drink from it. He remembers walking over to Mr. Gold from the school bus after Mr. Gold had called his name and then he remembers nothing.

And now they're out of Storybrooke.

"I am sorry about this, Henry," Mr. Gold says conversely. "I had planned for Emma to simply owe me a favor and claim it for this. But since things didn't work out that way I had to give her an incentive to follow us."

"Why?" Henry asks curiously. Strangely, he doesn't feel afraid. Not of Mr. Gold. Maybe he's meant to. Villains should be feared, but Henry doesn't feel it.

"Because I need to find my son," Mr. Gold says and reaches for the phone. "And I need Emma to do it."

II

The phone ringing in her pocket makes Emma almost jump. Regina is still focused on her spell, leading them all slowly out of the city, and she falters slightly at the loud sound.

Emma quickly pulls the phone out, almost barking into it. "What?"

"Henry is safe," Mr. Gold's voice says and it makes Emma stop dead in her tracks. Him. She should have known. In the background, she can hear Henry call out her name.

"Where have you taken Henry?" she asks. David and Mary Margaret look up sharply and then lean closer.

"Outside Storybrooke," Mr. Gold goes on. "I suggest you join us and leave your parents behind unless you want them to forget who they are and you are. I have a mission for you."

"I don't owe you any favors," she says darkly. "Quite the opposite. Why would I do anything for you?"

"For Henry," Mr. Gold says. "I will call you in four hours with the details. I suggest you take the time to pack."

He hangs up before she can give him the piece of her mind he deserves. Graham, Regina, David and Mary Margaret all look at her. "Mr. Gold has Henry. They're outside Storybrooke somewhere. Gold wants me to do something for him."

David stares at her. "What the hell? That's out of the question!"

"I have to! He's my son!" Emma says. It takes her a moment to realize what she's said as David and Mary Margaret's eyes widen. "Oh, I didn't mean..."

"No," Mary Margaret says with determination, exchanging a glance with David. "He's our son. All of us, I mean. Yours, mine and David's."

Emma nods slowly, swallowing a lump in her throat that feels the size of Granny's apple pie. Oh. _Oh._

"You can't go alone, Emma. You can't trust him. We're coming with you," David says, looking at her with an equal amount of determination and love.

"You can't," Emma says gently. "You'll lose your memories. I won't let you do that."

"Emma," Mary Margaret says. "In our land he was known as the Dark One. He cast the curse, Emma. You don't know what he's capable of."

"I know what I am capable of," she counters.

David's eyes soften and Mary Margaret smiles softly.

"We know what you're capable of," David says and Mary Margaret nods. "But Emma..."

"No," Emma says resolutely. "Please. I just found you. I cannot lose you now."

Mary Margaret and David exchange pained glances. She can feel the struggle in them, the deep desire to protect her to the world's end and past Storybrooke's town line. But they can't. They really can't this time.

"Okay," Mary Margaret finally says, voice breaking a little. "Okay."s

"Okay," Emma agrees, feeling Regina and Graham look at her also. "I guess I'd better pack."


	54. Chapter Fifty-Three

II

**Chapter Fifty-Three**

II

Present day

II

It shouldn't feel like giving Emma up all over again, but it does, Snow finds.

They can't follow Emma. Snow does know that. She and Charming can't cross the town line without losing their memories and losing who Emma is to them, so it isn't an option. They can't follow but Emma has to go to get Henry back. It's all perfectly logical.

It still hurts. It still goes against every instinct in her body that is telling her to never let her daughter go. They just found her. They were making progress with her. They were starting to form a family. Finally, they were making that family they always wanted and had both their children.

David is currently lifting Emma's bags into her car and looking not the least bit happy to be doing it. Snow can see the tension in his body, the reluctance in everything he does, and knows that he too is fighting every fatherly instinct in him.

"I don't think Gold will harm Henry," Emma says, perhaps reassuring herself as much as them. "I will be back with Henry as soon as possible."

Snow just nods. She doesn't trust her voice right now.

"Call us," David says, closing the car door after the last bag has gone in. He walks over and looks at Emma as if he's memorizing every inch of her. "When you can, I mean."

"Yeah," Emma agrees softly, looking at them both awkwardly. "I know how much you love Henry. Whatever Gold wants me to do, I will keep Henry safe. I promise."

"We're not doubting that," Snow says hurriedly. "We trust you."

"We just don't trust him," David finishes. He lifts a hand as if to touch Emma's cheek, but pauses and lets it fall again. "Emma... Don't just keep Henry safe. Keep yourself safe too. We love you too. Just as much."

Emma stands completely still for a moment. A myriad of emotions crosses her face so fast Snow cannot read them all. But she can see the disbelief and it breaks her heart all over again to think her daughter would ever doubt that she is loved.

"We do," she says forcefully, pulling Emma into a hug. A moment later David embraces them both. They stand like that for what must be minutes; Snow knows she is crying and she can feel that Emma's breath is uneven too.

It is the phone ringing in Emma's pocket that ends the embrace. Emma pulls back with an apologetic smile and Snow can see traces of tears on her daughter's cheek as well.

David sees too, Snow notices. He puts an arm around her waist and lets it linger on her hip as if to keep her steady.

"Gold," Emma says into the phone. "Yeah, I am packed. I'll meet you there. Yeah. Yeah. Let me talk to Henry for a moment or I will be doing nothing of the sort."

Snow has to smile as the steel in Emma's voice and then feels a sharp pang as Emma's face softens the moment Henry clearly comes on the line.

It is the look of a mother on her daughter's face, Snow thinks.

"Hey kid. Yeah, I'll be there really soon, okay? Yeah, me too. Here, I'm going to let you talk to your parents for a moment."

David accepts the phone from Emma's outstretched hand, putting it between himself and Snow so they can both hear.

"Hi mom and dad," Henry says. He sounds normal and even a little excited and Snow feels some of the tension leave her body. Their son is safe. For now at least, but that's a start. "We're going to have an adventure and find Gold's son Baelfire."

"An adventure, huh?" David says, trying to keep his voice light and failing rather badly. "You do remember what heroes do at the end of their adventure?"

The line is silent for a moment. "Come home?"

"Exactly," David replies. "Mom and I will be waiting for you, okay?"

"And we love you," Snow adds. She looks up and meets Emma's gaze and sees the love mirrored there.

"Love you too," Henry says and then he is gone and it's Gold voice on the line.

"No harm will come to your boy."

"Or my girl," David adds angrily. Snow draws her hand across his back and he eases slightly, giving her a brief glance. There is no point threatening the Dark One, they both know. "Just... Just keep my family safe, Gold. After everything you've done, you owe us that."

Gold breathes, Snow can hear. Then his voice comes back, short and clipped and the single word an admittance that they're right.

"Deal." With that, Gold hangs up and David hands the phone back to Emma. She takes it and looks at them both as if she's trying to memorize the sight as well.

"I better get going," she says reluctantly. Snow holds out a hand and Emma accepts it, squeezing it for a moment. Then Emma lets go and Snow leans her head against David's chest while they both watch their daughter leave.

II

After she's driven well out of sight from her parents, Emma pulls her car over and leans against the steering wheel and just breathes.

David and Mary Margaret, she thinks and it's like an ache in her heart. She doesn't want to leave. She really, really doesn't. They're... They're David and Mary Margaret and she really doesn't want to leave them.

Henry, she thinks next. Right. David and Mary Margaret will be safe here. They will be and they can look after themselves. All Emma has to do is find this Baelfire, take Henry back with her and everything will be as it was. Well, as it was for a day, at least. One day of the four of them living together and getting to know each other and nothing bad happening. A good day.

She exhales again and then starts the car. Best to get on with this and get it over with. Henry might like adventures, but she is starting to think she rather dislikes them. They never seem to bring anything good.

As she drives closer to the town line, she can see the sheriff's car parked just before it and Graham is leaning casually against it. She can't help but smile as she pulls over.

"Am I being arrested?" she asks, walking out and leaning against her own car.

"No," Graham says and flashes her an easy smile. "I suspect if I tried, I would be the one ending up handcuffed to my car and it would be really awkward calling your parents to ask them to get the spare keys."

"Mmm," she agrees. "David might just leave you handcuffed here for a while too. I think he would enjoy that."

Graham nods, then his smile drops and walks over and kisses her fiercely while pressing her against the car. It is not the most comfortable of positions, but Emma finds herself not caring one bit. She bites down on his lower lip before drawing it between her own, thinking briefly about what might be most comfortable between the hood of a car and the back of a car.

"Do I get one too?" a cheeky voice calls and Graham groans into the kiss. A moment later he pulls back and Emma looks across to see that there is actually someone in the car as well. A man, she can tell. Killian, she sees as he exits the car. That man Belle was so set on them saving, Gold's nemesis or whatever the hell he was.

Trouble, she decides. That's what he was. Trouble.

"What, kisses or handcuffs?" she shoots back and he grins. "The handcuffs can be arranged."

"Sorry," Graham says, and she looks up at him again. "There is something he has I want you to have."

"What's that?" she asks. "More confidence than sense? Because I am pretty sure I can fake that."

Killian shoots her another smile and puts his hand across his chest as if he's hurt. More like turned on, she's pretty sure. She knows his kind.

"Fairy dust," Graham says and Killian reaches inside his jacket to pull out a pouch. "We went mining for it looking for a way to restore the hat and get you all home. But then you crushed all my knight in shining armor plans and got back on your own. I don't know what Gold wants you to do, but I do know I don't trust him."

"As anyone with sense would know," Killian interjects. "So you see, Miss Swan, I do have some sense."

Emma rolls her eyes. "I can handle Gold."

"Yes," Graham agrees, as Killian walks over and holds the pouch out. "Now you'll just have something more to handle him with."

Sighing, she accepts the pouch from Killian's hand. The moment she holds it in her palm she can feel the magic inside hum and her body hum with it.

"Be careful," Graham says, looking at her as if she is magic to him. That makes her body hum too, and worse.

Maybe it isn't just her parents she has to come back home for, Emma thinks dimly. Maybe.

II

Their home feels too empty, Snow thinks as David closes the door behind them. It may be small and crowded with four people, but it's home with four people. Without Henry and without Emma it now just feels like timber and bricks. It's missing half of its heart; half of the people living here.

David's arms come around her from behind, and she leans back against him. He just holds her and she knows he is feeling the same sense of loss.

Gold, she thinks darkly. He's done this to them before. He's taken Emma from them before. That time it was for 28 years.

How long is it going to be now?


	55. Chapter Fifty-Four

II

**Chapter Fifty-Four**

II

Present day

II

Regina knocks on the door and waits for a good while until David finally comes to open it. He looks distracted, but does let her in without comment. Snow is still sitting on the couch, so Regina supposes she has interrupted some mutual comfort. They both look desolate and she takes no pleasure in it.

"Has Emma left?" she asks without preamble. They both nod. "I think you'll both agree with me that Gold remains a problem for us all."

"What can we do? He's the Dark One," David says. He drops back on the couch and Snow leans into him immediately. Regina feels a little pang of something akin to jealously. Not of Snow having her Charming, per se. Just of Snow having someone still there for her even with Emma and Henry out of town.

Just having one in your life leaves you vulnerable, as Regina knows, and she thinks of her father.

"Exactly. He's the Dark One," Regina continues and Snow looks up at her. "He can be controlled."

David looks up too now. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying we should find the dagger," Regina says. "I'm saying we could control the Dark One and make sure he never hurts anyone again."

Snow and Charming exchange a glance. She knows they don't fully trust her and perhaps they're right not to. She also knows they trust Rumpelstiltskin even less and he just caused them to be separated from their children.

"How do you suggest we do that?" Snow finally asks and Regina smiles.

II

She's being followed, Emma knows. She's being very obviously followed by a motorbike and has since she left Storybrooke properly.

So someone from Storybrooke yet someone able to leave it. That narrows the field. That also worries her.

At the first gas station, she pulls over to fill up and then she rounds the corner as if heading to the ladies'. Instead, she waits. It doesn't take long until the guy rounds the corner, makes a surprised face at her and then finds himself pinned up against the wall with an elbow at his throat.

"Who are you?" Emma asks sharply.

"August," the man croaks and she eases her elbow slightly back so he can talk more easily. "Also known as Pinocchio. I know your son. I also know who you're looking for. Baelfire, right? Gold is asking you to find his son."

"How the hell do you know so much?" she asks, every word of his making her more uneasy.

"Because I was sent through the wardrobe with you," August says and she blinks. The wardrobe took two? But her parents didn't seem aware of that, certainly never mentioned it. Didn't they know? "And I failed you."

"You've got two minutes to explain yourself and you better not fail at that," she says firmly and August starts talking.

II

Cora watches her daughter and the two idiots stand around Gold's office, all three heads close together as they have a discussion on the sidewalk. Regina, Snow and the prince, thick as thieves. Well, well.

Not just her father Regina loves, then. The moment he died Regina didn't fall apart ripe for the picking. No. She went to the Charmings, to Snow White. She still has someone to hold onto, someone holding her back. She even helped them look for that brat of theirs.

Snow, Cora thinks with distaste. So like Eva. Like mother like daughter. Eva was in the way of what Regina was meant to be. So now is Snow.

But Eva died. So can Snow. Without her magic she might have to make do with a little less finesse this time, but she still has her poisons. Yes.

Like mother like daughter indeed.

II

"He wouldn't hide the dagger in his office," Regina says, and David agrees. It's too obvious a hiding spot for Rumpelstiltskin. But it's still the first logical place to look. It's also been a bust.

"He could have buried it down somewhere so we'll never find it," Snow suggests. Regina immediately shakes her head.

"No. I know he used that dagger to summon the wraith we banished. He's hiding it somewhere. We just have to figure out where," Regina says firmly and invites no counter arguments.

David sighs, rubbing his neck. Rumpelstiltskin under control does sound like a good idea, but he still feels uneasy about the whole project. There is Regina too, who he doesn't quite know where stands. Good? Evil? Neither and both? Somewhere in the middle? He wishes he could just know, one way or another.

"Would he trust anyone with it?" he asks, thinking of what he would do with a powerful object he needed to keep hidden. He would trust Snow.

Regina makes a skeptical face, then seems to rethink. "Maybe. Why don't you two see what you can find in what remains of his manor, even you two can't screw that up. I'm going to follow up on a lead."

With that, Regina stalks away and David and Snow are left looking after her.

"You know," he tells Snow as he takes her hand, "in the trying-to-murder-us-daily aspect, Regina has really changed. In others, not so much."

II

"So to sum it up," Emma says, rubbing her temples lightly. Her head hurts. "Your father made a deal to send you through the wardrobe with me. You were meant to look after me but didn't and now you're turning back into wood."

"Yeah," August agrees. "That pretty much sums it up."

Emma closes her eyes. "I really, really hate fairytales."

"There is something else," August says cautiously. "You know Gold's son."

"I don't know anyone called Baelfire," she says. "I think I would have remembered that name."

"He isn't using that name now," August says. The look on his face makes Emma feel increasingly uneasy. "He's using the name Neal Cassidy."

Emma staggers and closes her eyes. It feels as if her head has just been slammed into a wall. Baelfire is Neal? Baelfire is _Neal_. Bealfire is Henry's father?! No. That's not possible. That can't be possible. No.

"Neal," she repeats dully.

"Yeah."

Another thought strikes her violently and she feels an urge to ram her elbow into the wall. "Gold knows, doesn't he? Doesn't he?!"

"I told him," August admits. "He knows he's Henry's grandfather. When I found out you were pregnant, I told him. I thought he might look after the child. He did that. He arranged for your parents to adopt the kid."

Okay, Emma thinks and sinks down on the ground as her legs can't seem to hold her up anymore. Her mother is Snow White, her father is Prince Charming so of course Henry's other grandfather would be Rumpelstiltskin. Of course.

Fairytales, she thinks again. Fuck them all.

II

"He wouldn't do that," Belle says again and Regina fights an urge to roll her eyes. Love. It really can be blinding, deeply so in fact. It really is a weakness.

(It's just not all it is, the part of her that remembers being young knows. Oh, it's also so much more.)

"He did," Regina says patiently. "He's taken Henry Nolan across the town line and is forcing Emma to help find his son before Henry will be returned."

Belle closes her eyes as if in pain. Maybe she is. She does have his heart beating as her own, after all. What darkens it will darken her too.

"He keeps making the wrong choices," Belle finally says, lowering her head.

"He does," Regina agrees. "What If you could help him make the right ones?"

"How?" Belle asks, opening her eyes again with renewed determination. She always did have that quiet strength in her, Regina remembers, never quite giving up.

"The dagger," Regina says firmly.

"You kept me imprisoned," Belle says, but there is no grudge or anger in her voice. Strange, that. "You did it to hurt him. How could I ever trust you with control of him?"

"Maybe you couldn't," Regina replies, wondering if she'd even trust herself. "But would you trust the Charmings with it? How about yourself? But most importantly, Belle, do you trust Rumpelstiltskin with it?"

"There is good in him," Belle counters, just a touch fiercely.

"Maybe there is," Regina acknowledges, thinking of the Evil Queen that no one would believe there was any good in – except Snow and her father. Then she thinks of her father lying dead. "But there is also 300 years of the Dark One in him. You've seen what he's capable of. You've seen him cast the curse that ripped us all from our land. You've felt him rip out your own heart. You may love him. But do you trust him?"

Belle looks at her, but doesn't answer. Maybe she doesn't have one yet.

II

Gold's manor still smells of burnt wood, Snow finds. It's not an entirely unpleasant smell, reminding her of campfires and nights camped out under the stars. But the house is an unpleasant sight, she has to admit. The upper floor probably even more so, but David is searching there and she is doing the ground floor.

This will certainly not be where they find the dagger, Snow knows. Regina would never have sent them to search here if it was. But it is another place to tick of the list.

She sighs as she finishes looking through what remains of the kitchen. In the corner of her eye she can see something move and as she turns around, something cut into her flesh.

It isn't deep but still knocks the wind out of her. She gasps, falling backwards and pulling at the cloth of the cloak of the hooded figure who has stabbed her. She can't make out who it is and as she falls, the person flees.

"David!" she calls out. She clutches the side of her stomach where the knife cut into her. There is blood, but there is also something else staining her hands. Something yellow and unpleasant.

Poison, she thinks dimly. She's been poisoned.

"Snow?!" David calls and she can see him come running into the room, his eyes widening at the sight of her. "Snow!"

She breathes as he falls to his knees beside her. "Poison."

"What?" he asks dumbly. He finally catches sight of her hands and the blood on them and he gasps. "No no no."

"Poison," she repeats. She struggles to keep her eyes open and her every breath feels painful. She's been poisoned. Her eyes slide shut.

"Snow!" she hears his voice call out desperately, his hands roaming her face. She only vaguely feels that he lifts her up into his arms and begins carrying her out.

David, she thinks fiercely, forcing her heart to keep beating despite the pain. She can't leave him. She can't. She refuses to.

"Snow," he murmurs, his voice raw with pain. "Hold on. _Please_."

So she does.


	56. Chapter Fifty-Five

II

**Chapter Fifty-Five**

II

Present day

II

"This is it," Belle says and Regina looks around the small apartment. "You really think he would keep something here?"

"He keeps his heart in you," Regina says. She stares intently at the painting of a rose. Somehow, it doesn't seem like Belle's style. A single, clipped rose in a vase. Hmm.

She rips the painting from the wall with magic and Belle almost jumps. Behind it, there is a wall safe and Regina smiles triumphantly. She pulls that open with magic as well, enjoying the feeling of being active again.

There is no dagger inside. There is however ingredients to a protection spell, a few potions that could knock out even ogres and a half-white half-black candle. So. Rumpelstiltskin stashed magical supplies to protect and heal his beloved Belle here. But not the dagger.

The phone rings and Regina picks it up, noticing that it's David. If those two have found something while she hasn't, she'll never hear the end of it.

"Yes?" she says and then goes very, very still as David talks.

II

Voices. Snow tries to focus on the voices as if they're lifeboats in a great wide sea trying to drown her. If she can just keep listening to the voices, she won't drown.

She can feel hands on her body too, brushing against her wound. It makes her buck in pain and she can feel soothing hands on her face. David's, she just knows. Only he touches her as lovingly as that.

"It is poison," Regina says. "Magical poison. I can't heal it."

"You have to do something! This is my wife's life we're talking about!" David says. He sounds broken. Snow wishes she could kiss it all better, but she can't even feel her own lips.

"I couldn't heal my father," Regina says defensively. "That was poison too. I thought it was Rumpelstiltskin's doing. I may have been wrong."

"Who would want to kill Snow?" David asks as if the very thought is absurd. "Oh, no offense, Regina."

"None taken," Regina says drily. Snow can feel a hand on her forehead and realizes it is Regina's. "Wait... I know who would do this, who would kill my father and Snow without a second thought. My mother!"

"Cora," David breathes. "I heard her. She wanted to give you Snow's heart. But we left them there, her and King George."

"Maybe they found another way," Regina says distantly. "I found a few things belonging to Gold at Belle's. I'll put up a protection spell and then use a tracking spell for my mother. I still have her spell book. It will lead me to her."

"What can I do?" David asks.

"Stay with her. Keep her here," Regina says and Snow feels a light kiss brush her forehead. "Hold on, Snow."

II

"Emma?" August asks carefully. Emma ignores him and puts her head between her legs and focuses on breathing. She wants to throw up. She wants to scream. She wants to throw things. Her phone keeps ringing too, but she ignores it pointedly.

Neal is Baelfire. She fell in love with Rumpelstiltskin's son. She slept with him. She carried his child. Did he know who she was all along? Did he know?

"Did you tell him who I was or did he already know?" she asks August, finally looking up at him.

"I told him. I told him he had to leave you so you could fulfill your destiny."

Emma doesn't think, she just gets on her feet and throws a punch. It connects with August's nose and leaves her knuckles sore, but it doesn't make her feel better.

"I probably deserved that one," August says. He clutches his nose and she can see a bit of blood trickling down between his fingers.

"I'm going to meet up with Gold and punch him in the face," she tells him. "Then I am going to find Neal – Baelfire – Nealfire whatever the hell he wants to call himself and I'm going to punch him too. Then I am going to take my son home to his parents and my parents and if I ever see you again I will tell David and Mary Margaret what you did. I'm not sure which of them would catch up with you first, but I'm pretty sure it would be painful either way."

August lowers his head and she feels a tiny moment of pity for him. It is quickly buried by quite a lot of anger.

"If that's what you want, Emma," he says and she isn't sure what she wants except to find and hug Henry, get them both home and let her parents hug her and not deal with any of this.

"Go to hell," she simply says and walks back to her car, feeling his gaze follow her all the way.

II

"Please..." David pleads. He stares at his wife, willing her to keep breathing, keep living. He can't lose her. He can't. He'll lose himself too. He clutches her hand and her eyes do open to look at him. "Snow."

"Love you," she whispers, her eyes struggling to focus on him. "Charming, please tell Emma and Henry that I..."

"You'll tell them," he says, kissing her fingertips and then her palm. Soft. Lingering kisses that feel like they're anchoring her to him. He's trying to hold onto her any way he can, touches included.

She makes a noise that might be a weak laugh. "You never knew when to give up. So stubborn."

"You do know me better than anyone," he jokes and her eyes fall away from him. "Hey, look at me."

But she's not. "Why do you have that?"

"What?" he asks, following her gaze. She's looking at the bed table, at the mass of things Regina emptied there that she had found at Belle's.

"The candle," Snow says. "Charming, no. It's dark magic. It only works if you trade one life for another. My mother wouldn't let me use it to save her. I won't let you."

He tries to digest this information. The candle can trade one life for another. Snow could live. He could trade his life for Snow's.

"I love you," he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to her lips and reaches for the phone to call the one person he is certain will know how to use dark magic.

II

Regina doesn't find her mother.

The tracking spell she uses leads her to something else instead.

Her mother's heart.

II

Henry sits on the hood of Mr. Gold's car and waits for Emma to pull into the parking lot. This is where they've agreed to meet before traveling on to New York. That's where Baelfire is, Mr. Gold told him. He even pulled out a globe to prove it.

Mr. Gold is talking on the phone inside the car still. With his dad, apparently, but from the serious look on Mr. Gold's face it must be an adult conversation.

Henry decides to focus on the adventure ahead instead. Missing person adventure, this is. Which is not as good as a dragon fighting adventure. But it is better than finding bluebirds adventure that mom and dad would take him on that always turned into mom and dad kissing adventures anyway.

"Why do we have to find your son?" Henry asks when Mr. Gold finally comes out of the car, still looking serious. "How did you lose him?"

"I broke a deal," Mr. Gold says. He sounds sad. "He fell into a portal into another land. It's taken me a long time to find him."

"Oh," Henry says. "Do you think he'll be happy to see you?"

"I don't know," Mr. Gold replies. "I think he'll be happier to see you."

That's odd, Henry considers. He doesn't know any Baelfires or Neals. He's about to ask what Mr. Gold means by that when he sees a yellow car pull up.

"Emma!" he calls happily, jumping off the hood. She exits the car as he runs towards her, hugging her happily.

"Hey, kid," she says, but her attention seems to be on Mr. Gold. She looks quite angry, actually. Really angry.

"Miss Swan," Mr. Gold says and Emma frees herself from Henry, giving him a brief smile. Then she walks up to Mr. Gold and punches him right in the face.

Oh, Henry thinks. Maybe this will be more than a missing person adventure after all.

II

Regina bursts into the door to find David in bed cradling Snow in his arms, kissing her face reverently over and over while holding a candle in one of his arms. It's still unlit, but she can see the box of matches he's put ready on the bed table.

She can hear him, too.

"... You took an apple for me once," he is saying and she realizes he's talking about the sleeping curse Snow took to save his life. "I love you so, so much. I can't let you die if I can stop it. And I can."

"What are you doing?" Regina asks sharply. He looks up at her, tears clinging to his lashes and streaking his cheeks.

"This candle will let me trade my life for Snow's," he says . "She'll live."

"And you'll die?" Regina asks harshly. "I'm supposed to let you sacrifice yourself? Do you think she'll ever forgive me for that? Do you think your son will?"

"This isn't your choice, Regina," he says angrily, looking down at Snow again. The love in his gaze makes Regina want to look away. Oh, she's seen that before. She's felt it directed at herself, too.

She balls her fists. Daniel, she thinks fiercely. It is like Daniel all over again. She made a mistake then and directed the blame where it shouldn't have gone. She knows that now. Rationally, she knows, but is still working on it emotionally.

It was her mother's fault. This is too. Yet another to die because of her mother.

_No._ No more. Not this time. Not Snow.

"No," Regina says and David looks up at her. "This is not how this is going to end."

"I can't let her die, Regina," David says brokenly. "How else can we save her?"

"Like this," Regina says, and tells him.


	57. Chapter Ifty-Six

II

**Chapter Fifty-Six**

II

Present day

II

"I may have deserved that," Gold says slowly, touching his nose while Emma glares at him and Henry looks rather excited. "But what was the particular reason?"

"Your son," Emma hisses. " _Neal_."

Ah, he thinks. There is only one way she could have found out about that. "I take it August told you. How is his state of wood these days?"

"August told me too," Henry chimes in before Emma can answer. Emma stares at her son. "He gave me an envelope with a letter for you while you were in the Enchanted Forest. It said Baelfire was Neal. Do you know him, mom?"

Emma looks torn between being touched at being called mom and wanting to flee miles away from that question. "Yeah, I knew Neal when I was younger."

"Awesome!" Henry says happily. "He'll get his father back and meet you again. He's going to be so happy."

He'll meet more than that, Gold knows and watches Emma Swan close her eyes and probably wish she were miles away. Back in Storybrooke, probably.

Especially if she knew what was going on there right now, he considers. He touches his nose again, but it isn't healing. There is no magic coming no matter how much he wills it.

Magic doesn't work here, he realizes with mounting panic. His power is gone.

II

Snow becomes aware of voices again. Not just David's this time. Regina's too, and she fights to focus on what they're saying.

"... She's fading fast, we can't wait for..."

"David, I know you have a million reasons not to trust me but right now, please just shut up."

"Regina?" Snow murmurs groggily and she feels David's arms hug her closer against him.

"Shh," Regina says softly. Snow forces her eyes open to see Regina look at her tenderly. "Everything is going to be fine."

But Snow can feel her gaze fall to the candle in David's hand. It's burnt in both ends, she realizes with mounting horror. It's been used.

"No," she pleads, noticing the guilty looks David and Regina exchange as David lets the candle drop to the floor. "Charming, no."

"You're not going to die," he whispers, kissing her as she tries to protest. No. Him dying for her would hurt more than death. She can't live with that. She can't.

The door opens and Cora steps in. David goes very still , but he doesn't seem entirely shocked. Neither does Regina.

"I wondered when you'd show," Regina says evenly.

"You have my heart, daughter. How could I not?" Cora replies.

"So I do," Regina says, lifting up her hand and Snow can see the heart pulsating there. "I could just crush it right now and end your life."

"And yet you haven't," Cora observes.

Regina smiles unpleasantly, reminding Snow so much of the time of the Evil Queen she chokes a little. David kisses her forehead reassuringly. He is too calm, she finds. Much too calm. Something is wrong and she can't pinpoint what.

"I need your help," Regina says to Cora. "I am trying to find Rumpelstiltskin's dagger. If we control that, we would control the Dark One."

Cora seems to consider that. "So that is what you're after. Here I was thinking you had gone soft. What about these two?"

"Rumpelstiltskin has a certain fondness for them. I thought they might be of use to me. But instead I get to enjoy your handiwork, mother," Regina says.

"You're killing my wife!" David spits out. Regina just looks at him and Cora looks not bothered by that at all.

"She'll die just as her mother did. Poetic," Cora says and Snow draws a ragged, unsteady breath. "Yes, Snow. I poisoned your mother. I also gave you the chance to save her, but you decided not to. Couldn't take another life. Always so good. I'm sure she would be proud if she was alive to see it."

"So you killed her mother," Regina says in a flat voice. "Why?"

"To make you queen, of course," Cora says. "I've only ever wanted the best for you. You're my daughter. I've done all this for you."

Regina closes her eyes and for a moment, her expression is so pained Snow feels it too. Then Regina opens her eyes again and smiles.

"Mother," she says, walking over and embracing Cora. Snow wants to protest, wants to tell Regina that her mother doesn't just bring poison but is poison, but just breathing is pain enough and she can't muster the words. She looks at Charming again, willing him to understand how much she loves him. She doesn't want to leave him or leave Emma or Henry.

But David is looking at Regina and Cora. Not with horror, as she would think at the sight of Regina working with her mother. With pity.

What?

The candle, she remembers with sudden clarity. Her head is clearing, her breathing is getting easier and as she looks down, she can't see her wound anymore. It is gone as if it never was.

"David?" she asks, and then Cora collapses on the floor. Regina makes a strangled cry, kneeling down to cradle her mother.

"I used the candle over Cora's heart," David says softly. He is still looking at Regina. "Regina put it back into her mother. To save you and to stop Cora."

"Regina," Snow whispers. Regina looks up from her spot on the floor, tears in her eyes but bright determination on her face.

"It had to be like this," Regina says in a strangely clear voice. "David was going to use the candle on himself. This was the other option."

"David," Snow says and he seems to realize what she wants, helping her out of the bed and onto her feet. She still feels weak, but her legs are carrying her. Step by step, David's arms still around her, Snow walks over to Regina and Cora.

Cora is breathing unevenly, her eyes locked on Regina. There is love in her gaze and Snow finds herself wondering if not having a heart was the problem all along or if the problem was far greater and Cora removing her own heart was simply a symptom of it.

"You could have been enough. This could have been enough," Cora whispers lovingly and Regina presses her forehead against her mother's.

"Why couldn't you have realized that earlier?" Regina whispers. "I never wanted to be queen. I never wanted what you killed for. I just wanted to be loved. By you, by Daniel, by father, by children of my own. I never wanted to become you."

Cora offers no answer, just exhales one last time and then the light fades from her eyes and she goes still.

Regina is still cradling her mother and carefully, Snow puts her arms around Regina as well.

"You're not her," she whispers fiercely.

"You're not," David agrees. He sits down too. " _Thank you_."

"It wasn't just for you," Regina says, the implicit admission being it was partly for them. "It was for Henry too, both yours and mine. She killed my father. She killed Daniel. She killed everything good I've ever known. Enough."

"She didn't kill everything good," Snow says softly, and Regina looks up at her. "She didn't kill you."

II

While Henry is still excited about the prospect of finding Neal, Emma fights back another urge to either throw up or get drunk and throw up.

"Why shouldn't I just take Henry home right now?" she asks Gold aggressively and he blinks a few times before focusing on her. He looks a bit out of sorts, she notes.

"Because you know I will do whatever it takes to find my son," he says darkly. "Including using yours. This is the easiest solution, Miss Swan. The one where nobody gets hurt. You know what my son and your son have in common. I need that for the spell to find him."

"I have something in common with Neal?" Henry asks, looking from Gold to Emma.

Blood, she thinks faintly. Henry and Neal share blood. They're family.

She closes her eyes and exhales. "All right. I will help you find your son, but you leave Henry out of it."

Gold doesn't reply, picking up his ringing phone instead. She hugs Henry to her and picks up her own phone, noticing 28 missed calls from David Nolan. Parents trying to make up for 28 years, she supposes.

She wonders how many Gold is trying to make up for. Neal. Neal is Gold's son. It still fills her with disbelief and so many questions.

The most important one being if she should tell Henry. He has a father already, of course – her father – but she doesn't want to lie to him. She also wants to protect him and promised David and Mary Margaret she would look after their son.

She'll find Neal and then choose what to do, she decides. If he in any way would hurt Henry...

"That was your charming father," Gold says. "They had a little problem back in Storybrooke. It's all taken care of now.

"What was it?" she asks suspiciously. Little problem by his reckoning could be a rather big one by everyone else's.

"Oh, just a matter of the heart," Gold simply says.

II

Graham comes to collect Cora's body, asking just a few brief questions and then agreeing to get the rest of the story in the morning. He gives Regina a long look before leaving, but Regina is still just sitting on the couch and staring out the window.

Snow goes looking for a blanket while David makes tea. Regina accepts both without comment, and Snow longs to do more but isn't sure what.

"You know this means King George is in town too?" David asks in a low voice and Snow just nods. She knows, but she can't make herself care right now. She'll worry about it in the morning.

"Regina is going to stay here tonight," she says after a while and this time, it's David who just nods.

Carefully, Regina takes a sip of the tea and closes her eyes, silent tears running down her face. Snow hurries over and Regina leans back against her. They say nothing, but then, they don't really need to.

Actions speak louder than words, Snow knows, and Regina just killed her own mother to save them all.


	58. Chapter Fifty-Seven

II

**Chapter Fifty-Seven**

II

Present day

II

It is late by the time their plane lands in New York, and so Gold checks them all into a hotel, leaving Emma to share a room with Henry and Gold one of his own. Good thing, too. Emma isn't sure she would trust her fists in a room with a sleeping Gold.

Instead, she is left staring at the ceiling while Henry is out like a light. (Kidnapping apparently does that to you.) She can't sleep. Her mind is still going at the speed of light, rearranging everything she thought she knew about her life.

Neal. He's the first one she can truly remember loving, and the last one before her son barged into her life and dragged her into a world where she's currently facing so much love it's almost frightening.

And now she isn't sure if she feels better or worse now that she finally knows why he left her.

She glances over at Henry. Oh yes. There's Henry too and she really, really doesn't know how to feel or what to do about that.

Quietly, she eases out of bed and grabs her phone on the way to the bathroom. After she's closed the door, she sits down on the warm floor and dials what is becoming a very familiar number.

David answers on the third ring. "Hey Emma."

"Hey," she says in return. "I'm sorry I missed all your calls."

"Don't worry about it," he says reassuringly, but she can still detect something slightly odd in his voice. "Mary Margaret is with Regina right now, but I can have her call you later if you wanted to talk to her too."

"No, that's okay. I'll talk to her tomorrow," she says, wondering what they're all doing up so late anyway. She was expecting to wake them up. And Regina there? Maybe it's about Regina's father who passed away.

"She'll like that," David says and Emma feels herself smile at that. To have someone be glad when she calls, that is a new thing.

"Henry's fine," she says before anything too affectionate start spilling out of her. "I think he considers this a great adventure."

"That's our Henry," David says warmly and Emma finds that no matter how weird it is sharing her son with her parents, it's also kind of wonderful.

"That's our Henry," she agrees, thinking of her brave, impulsive and easily excited son.

"And how are you?" David asks in the same tone he used about Henry and she has to swallow several times before she trusts her voice.

"I just want to get this over with," she says, and David must have caught something in her voice anyway.

"What's wrong?"

She isn't sure how to even begin yet at the same time she knows she has to tell them. Not just because they are legally Henry's parents but also because they are her parents and she wants to.

"I'll tell you and Mary Margaret tomorrow, okay?" she finally manages.

"Okay," David says slowly. "Emma, whatever is bothering you – it won't change anything with us. You'll always be our daughter."

Oh, but he's wrong, she doesn't say. This may actually change a lot of things.

"Could you just stay on the line with me for a while?" she asks.

"As long as you want," he replies. "I could tell you another story."

"I don't know," she says jokingly. "It will be hard to top the one where Mary Margaret knocked you out with a rock the first time you met."

"There is the time she knocked me out and tied me to a tree," he offers and Emma finds herself laughing.

"Okay, lay it on me. How did Prince Charming end up tied to a tree by Snow White?" Emma asks, and lets her father's story drown out everything else for a little while.

II

When Snow has finally determined that Regina is fast asleep in Henry's bed, she pads downstairs and finds her husband sitting on their bed with the covers pulled back. He's in his sleepwear staring down at the phone in his hands with an odd expression, not noticing her until she sits down next to him.

"Emma called," he says.

"Oh," she breathes. "Is she and Henry all right?"

"Henry apparently is. I don't know about her," he says slowly. "I think something is wrong. She's going to call us tomorrow."

"Wrong?" Snow echoes. "I have to call her, I have to..."

"No," he says softly, putting the phone away and catching her hands in his own. "It's late and she went back to bed. And you can't always push it, Snow. Sometimes you gotta let her come to us."

"You can't always just wait it out either," she counters and he nods faintly. They're probably both right and both wrong, she supposes, depending on the circumstances.

"How's Regina?" he asks, changing the topic.

"Heartbroken," she says. She exhales, remembering the look on Regina's face. "David, I have to know. Did you suggest using the candle on Cora's heart or was it Regina?"

"It was Regina's suggestion," he says softly and she closes her eyes. So. Regina made the choice not only willingly but was the one to come up with it. "I was going to use the candle over my heart."

"No!" she says fiercely, opening her eyes again to glare at him.

"Was I supposed to just watch you die?" he counters just as fiercely. "You _are_ my heart. I won't let you die if I can stop it."

"Neither will I!" she says, shoving her hand against his chest over his heart. "I would rather die than lose you, I can't... David, I can't..."

He pulls her roughly against him before she can finish, linking his arms behind her back as his lips crash down on hers. She meets the kiss with equal fervor, tugging at his lips just as much as he does at hers. He moans softly, or perhaps it is her and the sound simply reverberates into him too.

He's not going to die for her, she thinks fiercely. He's going to live for her and live with her because any other alternative would kill her.

She pulls herself up to angle the kiss better, pushing him backwards into the mattress at the same time. With his hands still around her she goes down too, ending up pressed against his chest and with one leg between his.

He seems satisfied with the position (at least for the moment), his hands lingering on her waist as she kisses him and is kissed in equal measure. The brief argument they just had is echoing in the back and forth of the kiss: he nibbling at her lips, she tugging at his, he drawing her lower lips between hers, she parting her lips and brushing her tongue over his upper lip.

This is how it will always be, she knows. They are always going to be Snow and Charming: equally protective, equally willing to die for each other, equally desperate for the other to live.

Charming seems to become impatient at the same time as her and he tugs at the hem of her shirt at the same time as she lowers her hands to the waistline of his pajama pants. She takes the opportunity to cop a feel through the cloth of his pants and he makes a throaty moan at that. He breaks the kiss to yank her shirt off her, moving his mouth across the exposed skin as she unzips her jeans. Pulling them off is slightly trickier and she groans in frustration as he sucks on the flesh just above her breasts.

"David," she says forcefully and he lifts his head to look her in the face. His eyelids are already lowered and his face seems to radiate need and want in equal measure.

Shifting position slightly, he helps her pull his pants and underwear off with his hands on top of hers. His t-shirt is much easier and she kisses his chest as he seems to caress her legs and remove her jeans at the same time, then returning for her underwear. He is much slower to remove that, mostly because he slips his fingers inside and lets them linger there a good long while. Not that she is complaining. Making encouraging moans more like it, even biting into his shoulder a little.

When he finally does shed her underwear, he suddenly goes still. His hand lingers at her side and she realizes he's looking at where her wound was.

He draws a sharp, ragged breath and closes his eyes for a moment. She knows what he is imagining. Oh, she knows.

"Don't," she whispers, pressing a kiss to the pulse in his neck and moving to straddle him. "Don't."

"How can I not?" he asks, voice pained. "You almost died, Snow."

"I didn't," she says gently. "I'm here. Look at me. Feel me. I'm right here."

He opens his eyes at that, his gaze a caress as it wanders across her body. She moves her arms to her own back, unhooking her bra and shedding it as he watches. Just his gaze makes her breath become more shallow. It reminds her of their first time when he mapped her entire body with his eyes and then touches and kisses after.

He always had a way of looking at her as if he really saw her.

"You're here," he says softly and lifts his gaze to her face. "Snow..."

He trails off, then pulls her to him again, slanting his mouth over hers and kissing her intently. His hands go to her waist again, but this time he helps her adjust position. She bites down on his lower lip as she lowers herself on him and he thrusts upwards at the same time.

They know each other's bodies so well now, well enough to drive each other mad. Charming's pace is torturous slow to her, every now and then picking up the pace when she clenches her muscles around him. Only when she is panting and her body is tense from overwhelming pleasure does he get frantic. And even then his fingers coax her over the edge first before he comes with what must be an attempt at her name swallowed by her kiss.

He holds on even after, as if he still needs to feel her as much as he can. He shifts their position a little and lowers them both against the pillow with her on top of him. With one hand on her back, he uses the other to pull the covers over them.

"I'm here," she whispers reassuringly and tilts her head up to look at him.

"Just making sure," he says, then kisses her tenderly without the urgency of earlier but with the same persistence. She closes her eyes as he continues caressing her lips with his own.

"Get some sleep too," she murmurs.

"I promise," he says and she doesn't even have to look at him to know what that really means.

"Liar," she says. He'll stay awake watching her, at least for a while. Like he did after he woke her from the sleeping curse, needing to reassure himself she was there.

He chuckles as an admission that she knows him too well. He kisses her again and draws his fingers down her arm, and she falls asleep to that.


	59. Chapter Fifty-Eight

II

**Chapter Fifty-Eight**

II

Present day

II

Regina wakes slowly, as if not quite willing to wake up. There is a faint light in her room signaling dawn and she blinks at it and slowly lets it chase away the darkness of sleep.

It is best this way, she has always found. Darkness giving way slowly to light is less overwhelming and more steady and sure. It makes you less likely to shut your eyes and have the blackness again.

Light and dark. Yes. She knows the latter really well. She's rediscovering the former.

This is Henry's room, she realizes slowly. Snow and Charming put her up in Henry's room for the night. One wall is covered with drawings, clearly from different years. There are a lot of houses and mom and dad, but also dragons and castles and good winning.

They don't show the price of good winning, she thinks and remembers her mother. And yet, for all the terrible grief and pain, she finds she doesn't regret the choice. Not when she considers the alternatives.

She steels herself against the sense of grief and gets out of bed. The place is quiet and she is careful while walking down the stairs not to wake anyone, only to find she might have saved the effort. Snow is in the kitchen being also very quiet, clearly in the middle of making breakfast.

The shirt she is wearing is not her own and her short hair is mussed, and it feels like such a domestic scene Regina half wants to flee and half wants to join in.

"Oh! Regina!" Snow says, looking up. "Good morning. Are you... How did you sleep?"

"I'm fine," Regina says briskly even though she's not, and she can tell from Snow's expression that Snow knows that very well too.

"I'm making breakfast for you and David," Snow says after a moment.

"Where is your charming husband?"

"Sleeping. He stayed awake longer last night."

Regina just nods, wondering if she's now going to be privy to details from the personal life of the Charmings. She was to the Nolans' to certain degree, but that was before they regained their memories and the ghost of the past came back to hover between them.

"I was going to head home," Regina says slowly, not really feeling the same urge to hurry home anymore.

"Please don't," Snow replies softly, holding out a cup of tea that Regina hesitantly accepts. "Have breakfast with us."

"How would David feel about that?"

"He would be in perfect agreement," David says and Snow and Regina both turn to see him pad towards them barefoot. He gives Snow a quick kiss before turning to face Regina. "Regina, what you did yesterday..."

He trails off, looking down at Snow. It makes his face soften and light up at the same time. Snow returns the look and leans into him as he gently puts an arm around her.

"Stay for breakfast," David finally says and Regina nods, and does.

II

This is it, then. This is where Neal is, Emma thinks faintly. It's definitely not Tallahassee, but a New York building that doesn't stand out. Yet Gold insists it's the one, glancing at Henry now and then as if that is how he knows.

Right. The sooner she gets this over with, the sooner her life can go back to being moderately messed up instead of completely messed up. Absentmindedly, she touches the scarf then realizes what she's doing. She found it stuffed in with the rest of her clothes. It's Mary Margaret's, she is certain. Probably didn't want Emma to get chilly.

Why she wore it, she is less sure.

"Get him to talk to me. Then our deal will be done," Gold tells her and she detects a strange tone in his voice. It is almost as if he is afraid.

Emma just gives him a pointed glance. Then she takes a deep breath and hits the call button. "Neal? It's Emma Swan."

For a moment that feels like an eternity, nothing happens. Then the door buzzes open and Emma rather wishes it hadn't. But she opens the door, letting Henry and Gold in as well.

"Wait here," she instructs them both.

"Just get him to agree to talk to me," Gold says, and again with that tone is in his voice. A father desperate and yet afraid to face his son, she thinks, and looks at Henry.

"I'll do my best," she says distantly and heads up the stairs.

II

Emma, Neal thinks, staring at the door. He's already unlocked it. Emma has found him. All these years and Emma has found him.

Part of him wants to run, but another part of him that is much louder is telling him that he wouldn't dare run away. He owes her better than that.

The knock is insistent and he draws a slow, steady breath at the sound. Here goes.

"It's open!" he calls and the door swings open.

She's aged, but not so much he would think a whole decade has passed, is his first impression. Her golden hair is curled around her face and framing it, and he is hit with a string of memories about lacing his fingers through it. She's wearing a leather jacket and jeans and a knitted fluffy scarf that somehow feels a bit out of sync with the rest.

Her expression is stern yet brittle, and he wonders what it would take to break it.

"Emma," he says. He's not sure what else to say. "How did you find me?"

"Your father," she says darkly. "Gold. Rumpelstiltskin."

It is like being slapped and Neal physically staggers backwards. "You brought him here?"

"He brought me," she corrects. "He wants to talk to you."

"No," he says, shaking his head. "Do you know what he did to me?"

"I know what he did to my parents," she counters. "To that whole town."

He breathes, feeling a strong urge to reach out and touch her and yet knowing it would be unwelcome. "You found your parents, then. You broke the curse."

"Yeah," she says and for the briefest moment, her face softens. It is as lovely as daybreak after a dark night, and he remembers a time when he could be the one to bring that about. "Just as you and Pinocchio intended, right?"

"I didn't know!" he argues, willing her to at least understand that. "I didn't know who you were until Pinocchio told me. I wanted you to be happy and find your parents. He told me I would be in the way."

"So you took his word for it?" she says angrily and the hurt in her voice is so palatable he can feel it himself. "No. You know what? I don't want to know. If you still want me to be happy, you talk to your father so I can be free of him and you."

"Is that what you really want?" he asks and Emma closes her eyes.

"Yes," she finally says and even though he knows she is lying, he still nods.

II

"I still intend to find the dagger," Regina says, causing David and Mary Margaret to look up from their food.

"Rumpelstiltskin's dagger," David says, exchanging a very brief glance with Snow. "So you weren't looking for it to punish him because you thought he had killed your father?"

"Maybe that was part of it at first," Regina acknowledges. "But he's taken your daughter and Henry with him to find his son. They may succeed, but they may not. The last time Gold lost his son he cursed us all and brought us to this land. If he loses his son again, what will he do this time?"

Snow looks down at her hands as David laces his fingers into hers. They're thinking of Emma, Regina knows. The price they paid for Gold to find his son was the loss of their own for 28 years. Everyone in Storybrooke paid a price for Gold's loss – and that is wrong.

A loss isn't an excuse to make others suffer losses too. It doesn't make it better either. Two losses don't cancel each other out. She knows that now. She's learned it. Whatever everyone else would lose, it would never make up for her loss of Daniel. Snow could lose Charming. Emma could lose Graham (Regina has seen that – she's not blind, after all). All it would do was further the misery, like ripples in the water after a stone is thrown in.

"Okay, Regina," Snow says, lifting her gaze again. "We'll help you."

II

"You got your five minutes with him," Emma tells Gold as she comes back to the foyer. He nods very slow and then starts walking upwards more like a man heading to his execution than a happy reunion.

"Was he happy to see you again?" Henry asks, his face bright and happy. For a moment she can see Neal in him so well it is blinding.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

"Hey Henry, why don't you call David on that brand new cell phone we got for you?" she says as brightly as she can manage. "I'll call Mary Margaret."

"Okay," Henry agrees easily. He fishes out the phone she bought for him this morning. (Just in case something like this happens again. She doesn't trust Gold and she especially doesn't trust him with the son she shares with her parents.)

When she hears Henry start chatting excitedly, she moves out of earshot and gets out her own phone. She dials the number with unsteady hands and waits for an answer with a strong sense of doom.

"Emma!" Mary Margaret answers happily. In the background, Emma can hear David's voice as well, chatting to Henry. "How are you? Did you find Gold's son?"

"Gold's son is Neal," Emma manages and nearly chokes on it.

"Neal?" Mary Margaret echoes, clearly trying to figure out if that name should mean something. It will.

"Henry's birth father," Emma says, closing her eyes briefly. She can hear Mary Margaret draw a sharp breath. "Gold's son Neal is Henry's birth father."

"Oh," Mary Margaret says faintly. "I think you better tell me the whole story."

So Emma does.


	60. Chapter Fifty-Nine

II

**Chapter Fifty-Nine**

II

Present day

II

Her son-come-grandson is Rumpelstiltskin's grandchild, Snow thinks distantly. Henry. Her Henry, David's Henry and Emma's Henry is apparently also Neal Cassidy's Henry and Neal is Baelfire, Rumpelstiltskin's son.

It makes her dizzy just to think about. Then there's the fact that Neal apparently also left her daughter in jail, which doesn't make her dizzy as much as wanting to get Charming's sword out pronto.

Charming has clearly picked up on something being off as well, giving her quizzical glances now and then but still chatting amicably to Henry.

"I don't know what to do," Emma says, sounding lost.

Snow takes a deep breath, fighting back the urge to simply tell her daughter to get the hell home with Henry. "You should tell them. Henry deserves to know the truth and it's better that it comes from you than anyone else."

"I just want to protect him."

Snow fights back the urge to tell her daughter that sometimes, there is nothing you can do to protect your children. Life will happen, or curses, and all you can do is be there afterward.

"You sure you don't want to protect yourself?" Snow suggests softly. "Or us?"

Emma draws a sharp breath at that. "David is Henry's father. I don't want to... I don't want to hurt him."

"Do you think I am less Henry's mother now that he has you in your life too?"

"No!"

"Then give David the same credit," Snow says, glancing over at her beloved husband laughing at something Henry said. He notices her looking at him and smiles up at her in response.

"Okay," Emma says, but she doesn't sound happy about it all. "I'm sorry about this."

"Don't be," Snow says decisively. "Never be sorry for bringing Henry into our lives no matter the circumstances. He brought you back to us too, Emma."

Emma breathes and Snow listens to it, wishing she could be there to wrap her daughter in a hug and never let go.

"Will you tell David?" Emma finally asks.

"I will," Snow promises, wondering if Emma doesn't want to be the one to tell him because she doesn't want to disappoint her father or if she simply dreads the conversation with Henry too much to face another one. Either option is heartbreaking.

"Thanks. I'll call later," Emma says and then she is gone.

II

Gold has had centuries of work to get to this moment, but now that it is here he can't even think of an opening line as he walks into his son's apartment.

Bae, he thinks painfully and sharply.

Bae has grown into a man and for all Gold knew that, it still makes him almost stagger. This is no child, no teenager. This is his grown son and Gold might have found him again, but it feels like a loss too.

Years. So many years.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Bae finally says. "You've got five minutes. After that, I never want to see you again."

"Bae..." Gold takes step forward, wanting to reach out and touch but halting as Bae looks at him. There is only hostility and hurt in that gaze and it feels like being cut into. "I'm so, so sorry. I've spent centuries looking for you and centuries regretting my choice."

"You can't," Bae counters. "You think regret is bad? Imagine centuries of knowing your father abandoned you. Imagine the nightmares that causes."

"I'm sorry," Gold repeats.

"That doesn't change it," Bae says and now he sounds almost sad. "You chose all that crap over me. As far as I am concerned, you can live happily ever after with it."

"I'm trying to make it right."

"How? By cursing an entire land to come here? How does that do anything but make it worse? You took Emma from her parents. I know what that did to her. Until you've found a way to fix all that, you can't make anything right."

"Bae..."

"No! Don't say my name as if I am all that matters to you. You've proved that isn't the case. Get out."

"I know I failed you as a father," Gold says, feeling the tears burn in his eyes. "But I didn't fail your son."

Bae's face goes still. He lifts a hand, then lowers it again.

"My son?" he says hoarsely.

"With Emma," Gold says eagerly. "She gave him up for adoption. I arranged for her parents to adopt him. They've raised him so well. They are a true love couple so I knew they would. He's a wonderful boy, Bae. You'll love him. He's downstairs. You could meet him right now."

"My son," Bae says again and closes his eyes. "What's his name?"

"Henry," Gold says, watching all the conflicting emotions on Bae's face. Anger, wonder, longing, disbelief. So many emotions. There always are, with your children.

Bae isn't going to walk away. Not from his son.

And through Henry, Gold can have his son back too.

II

"Neal is Henry's birth father," David says slowly and Snow nods, putting her hand over his.

"Yes."

"And Rumpelstiltskin is Neal's father?"

"Yes," Snow says again.

"So he's Henry's grandfather?" David sums up. His forehead is wrinkled and she has an urge to lean forward and smooth them with kisses.

"So are you," she points out. "Technically."

He makes something between a laugh and a groan. "It's a good thing we're not drawing up the family tree because that would need a lot of additional lines."

"Yeah," she agrees.

"And Rumpelstiltskin has known all these years?"

"Apparently. Emma didn't explain how, but she did say Gold arranged for us to adopt Henry knowing who he was."

David nods very slowly. "I can't hate him for that. Henry's... He's our son."

"He is," she agrees and knows her eyes are a little teary.

"How the hell are we going to do this, then?" he asks. "Invite Neal into Henry's life too? After I have killed him for leaving my daughter in jail, anyway."

"You can't kill him, David," she says and he gives her a look. He is joking, of course, even if there is a part of him that would want to hurt anyone who hurt her daughter. She knows that; she has it too.

"Can I at least punch him out?" he asks for a moment, his tone telling her he's not serious.

"Maybe," she says, echoing his tone. "But only if you promise me one thing."

"That it won't be too hard?" he suggests.

"No. That it will be as hard as you can manage and that you help him up after so I can punch him too," she counters jokingly.

He laughs, and lifts a hand to her face to draw his fingers across her cheek lovingly. "I love you."

"That's how we'll do it," she says softly and he looks quizzically at her. "Love. We love Henry and we love Emma. Whatever they bring with them to our family, that won't change."

"That won't change," he agrees and leans forward to kiss her. She meets him halfway, kissing him tenderly and trying really, really hard to believe love will actually be enough.

II

"You think Baelfire will be happy to see his father again?" Henry asks as they sit on the stairs. "Mr. Gold seemed a bit strange about meeting him. I thought he'd be really happy since he'd worked so hard to get here."

"I think that's why he is 'a bit strange', Henry," Emma says gently. "Because he did so much to get here."

"Oh," Henry says. "Like when I've spent a lot of time on a drawing and show it to mom and dad I always feel more nervous?"

"Like that," she agrees. "I want to talk to you about your father."

"About dad?"

"No. Not about dad. About your birth father. Have you ever wondered about him?"

Henry seems to think. "Sometimes. Like I use to wonder about you. But I have dad so it was only sometimes."

"Yeah, you did have dad," Emma agrees, trying to keep her voice free of envy. He had her dad, in fact.

"Did you love him?" Henry asks. "My birth father, I mean."

"I did," she says and thinks of Neal, the dream of Tallahassee and a yellow car. She did. Back then, she did.

"Did he love you? Like dad loves mom?"

Emma thinks of jail and the watches and two years in Tallahassee and no more dreams. No Neal coming to find her. No true love's kiss to break a curse.

"I don't think so, Henry," she says and when he looks sadly up at her, she tries to make it into a joke. "I don't think anyone can beat how your dad loves your mom."

"Our," Henry corrects and she looks down at him. "Our mom and dad."

"Right," she manages, swallowing. "The thing is, Henry... I could take you to meet your birth father. If you wanted to."

Henry looks thoughtful. "He lives here?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think dad would be sad if I wanted to meet him? Like mom was a little sad I wanted to meet you before she knew who you were?"

Henry sees a lot more than he comments on or even lets on, Emma reminds herself. She has to keep that in mind for the future. He is perceptive even if he is a kid.

"I know David loves you enough to want you to be happy," she says carefully. "It's your choice, Henry. Do you want to meet him?"

Henry looks about to answer as footsteps come down the stairs and they both look up. But it isn't Gold, as Emma would expect.

It's Neal.


	61. Chapter Sixty

II

**Chapter Sixty**

II

Present day

II

The moment Neal lays his eyes on the kid, he knows it's his son. It's not just from Emma's slightly guilty look, it's not just from the way he can see Emma's features mixed with his own in the kid's face, it's not just the end of the conversation he just heard.

It's an emotion. It's something in his heart that just tells him this, this is his son. He can feel it. He can feel it so strongly it almost scares him.

He still has to ask. "Is this..."

Emma swallows, clearly understanding what he's asking. "Yeah. This is Henry. He's ten."

"Hi!" Henry says brightly. "You're Baelfire, right? I read about you in my book."

"Most people call me Neal these days," he manages, sitting down on the other side of Henry, "And you're Emma's son?"

Henry nods. "But I also have a mom and dad. They're also Emma's mom and dad. It's a bit of a long story."

"I bet," Neal says, trying to keep it casual even if he's pretty sure he is failing. "What's your mom and dad like?"

"They're awesome. They're actually Snow White and Prince Charming," Henry informs him, looking quite proud of that.

"So you're kind of a prince?" Neal asks. His son. He has no doubt about it, but it's still hard to believe. He has a son. This bright, excitable kid is his son.

Henry lights up at the comment. "I am! And Emma is a princess!"

Emma makes a face at that and Neal finds himself wondering what she would have looked like in a gown or with a tiara. Or how she would been raised by loving royal parents in a castle. As she should have been, if not for his dad.

"Dad's been teaching me to sword fight," Henry goes on.

"Has he?" Neal asks. "Maybe you can teach me, then."

Henry nods, then frowns. "I haven't got my swords with me. They're home in Storybrooke. And I think mom and dad want me and Emma back soon. They don't like it when I'm away and they just found Emma."

"That's okay," Neal says, realizing he made a certain choice the moment he heard about his son. Emma is looking at him too as if she knows what is coming. "I'll be coming back to Storybrooke with you. You can teach me there."

II

"Hey Belle," Red greets her as Belle walks into the diner. "The usual?"

It is a strange thing to have developed an usual just after a few days, Belle considers. But Red is like that, welcoming and kind in a way that makes it easy to think you've known her all your life.

"Sure," Belle says brightly, sliding into a booth. The door jingles again and she looks up to see Snow and Charming walking in with hands clasped. Red greets them happily, hugging Snow while David walks over to Belle.

He smiles at her as he sits down across from her. "I didn't get the chance to thank you for helping Red with the welcome home party."

"I didn't get the chance to apologize for causing you to need one in the first place," she counters, smiling even though she is serious too. "I didn't mean for it to turn out like that."

"You meant to save a life," he says seriously. "Don't apologize for that."

"I agree with that," Snow says, sliding into the booth next to David with coffee for them both. He slips an arm around her and rubs her shoulder affectionately. Belle feels a strong urge to apologize for Henry and Emma being away at the moment as well, knowing it was Rumpelstiltskin's doing, but she bites the urge back. It was his choice, not her doing, and having his heart doesn't make her responsible for his choices even if she must then bear the consequences.

"I was actually hoping to talk to you both," Belle says hesitantly instead. She leans forward and lowers her voice even though there is currently no one else there and Ruby has returned to the kitchen. "I understand Regina is looking for the dagger to control Rumpelstiltskin."

David and Snow exchange a look and Belle can almost feel the silent communication back and forth between them.

"I heard about him taking Henry," Belle goes on when they say nothing. "I know what he's done to your family. I might love him, but I am not blind to him."

"So you want to help Regina find the dagger?" David asks.

"No," Belle says firmly, and Snow and Charming exchange another look. " _I_ want to find it and I want you to help me."

II

Neal knows, Emma is certain. It's visible on his face, in how he interacts with Henry, in the glances he's giving her. But even so, Neal isn't letting on to Henry who he is, just listening to the kid talk about Storybrooke and the curse.

"Henry, why don't you go see how Mr. Gold is doing?" Emma interjects as Henry pauses in his explanation about the dragon to breathe.

"You're just saying that so you and Neal can talk," Henry says. "I'm ten. I'm not dumb."

"You're not," Neal says. "But it's a more polite way to ask if two old friends can have a moment, don't you think?"

"I guess so," Henry says reluctantly. "Can I tell Mr. Gold that you're coming back to Storybrooke with us? I think it will make him very happy."

Emma opens her mouth as if to object, but Neal answers before she can. "Yeah, do that, Henry."

Henry giving the news will tell his father what he's really coming back to Storybrooke for, Neal is sure. For Henry. Not for Rumpelstiltskin.

Henry walks up the stairs and they wait until his steps have faded before either says anything.

"Gold told you," Emma says in a flat voice. It's not a question. "I asked him not to use Henry in exchange for helping find you."

"My father has a tendency to break deals where I am concerns," he says bitterly, remembering why he's here in the first place and even why she is here, torn from her land and her parents. "Were you gonna tell me?"

"I was gonna leave it up to Henry," she says, exhaling. "If he doesn't want to know, are you still gonna tell him?"

"I don't know," he says after a moment. "I just want a chance to get to know him."

She nods slowly. "I told David and Mary Margaret about you. They let me into his life before they knew who I were. They'll probably let you as well."

He blinks at the names. "I thought you were the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming and they adopted Henry?"

"David and Mary Margaret are their curse names," she says, then looks at him. "You should be no stranger to more than one name, _Baelfire_."

"Got me there," he admits. "Are you willing to let me into his life?"

She looks away. "You broke my heart. If you break his..."

"I'm not my father," he says sharply. "I'm not going to abandon him like..."

"You did me," she says tonelessly.

He draws a sharp breath, trying to brace himself. "Look, Emma, I am sorry about..."

"No," she cuts him off with. "This is going to be about Henry and that's all it's going to be about."

"Okay," he says, knowing he is lying and knowing she knows too. "Okay."

II

Gold sits on his son's bed and watches the apartment. It is small, run-down and nothing of what he wanted for his son. It's more like a spinner's son's home, not the son of the Dark One.

Bae should be doing better. He will be doing better. Gold will see to it. His son will have everything he wants.

"You don't look happy," Henry says from the door and Gold lifts his gaze to his grandson.

"I am, Henry," he says. "I've just been looking for my son for a long time."

"Like Emma had been looking for her parents a long time so she was a bit weird when she found them," Henry concludes.

"Something like that," Gold agrees.

"Neal said he'll becoming to Storybrooke with us," Henry continues, sitting down on the bed next to him. "Does that make you happier?"

Gold feels himself smile as well as nod without thinking. Yes. Oh yes.

"Yes," he says, his voice picking up strength as he speaks. "That makes me very happy, Henry."

II

Snow squeezes his hand as they walk down the street, and David draws his thumb across hers in response. It is comforting, he reflects, little physical reminders that she's right there with him.

"So Regina wants us to help her find the dagger and Belle wants us to help her find the dagger," he sums up. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know," she admits. "Belle loves him, but she does seem like a good person. Regina has no love for him, but do we trust her with that power?"

"She killed her mother to save you," he says and she closes her eyes at the memory. He stops to draw her into half an embrace without breaking his hold on her hand.

"I know," she says against his chest. He curses himself silently for bringing it up, kissing the top of her head. "So what do we do?"

"Isn't either of them a better alternative than the Dark One going unchecked?" he suggests and she tilts her head to look up at him. "Maybe we can help them both. And with the Dark One under control, we could start working on getting home."

"Home?" she repeats and he smiles at her, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

"Home. To the Enchanted Forest," he says. Strangely, she doesn't seem the least bit happy to hear that.

II

After Emma has walked upstairs to join Henry and arrange their flight back, Neal fishes out his cell phone and dials. It takes only two rings before it is answered.

"Hey darling," he says. Her response makes him smile. "Listen, I... I will have to go away for a while. No, not on business exactly. Maine, actually. A little town, you've probably never heard of it. It's called Storybrooke."

Funny, he thinks. From her reaction, he would actually think she had heard of it.


	62. Chapter Sixty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events of this chapter are based on a request by operaballerina. Blame her.

II

**Chapter Sixty-One**

II

Present day

II

This isn't exactly the happy ending he had in mind, Gold considers and looks around the now empty apartment.

He had arranged for a flight home for all of them tomorrow and while his son had supposedly taken Emma and Henry to get lunch, he has instead taken Emma and Henry on an earlier flight without even announcing it. They even tricked him, with Henry phoning home to tell Snow and Charming he would be coming home tomorrow while Gold was within earshot. The kid is a terrible liar, so Emma and Neal must not have let him in on the plan.

Just the sort of thing he would have done, Gold reflects. There is a certain irony in that.

The sound of a key in the door makes him think for a moment that maybe they've come back after all. Then the door opens to reveal a woman with dark hair, dark skin and dark eyes. She nearly jumps as she sees him.

"Oh! I thought Neal had left already," she says.

"He has," Gold replies coolly.

"And he let you stay here?" she asks, looking a bit surprised at that.

"I'm his father."

She gives him a long look that is part curiosity and part disbelief. "He's never mentioned you."

"He hasn't mentioned you either," he comments.

"I'm Tamara," she says fearlessly. "I'm your son's fiancé."

This time it's he who gives her a long look. Tamara. There is something about her, something he can't quite place.

"I'm going to Storybrooke tomorrow. Maybe you could go with me," Gold suggests and she smiles. "I have unused tickets. I'd love to get to know you."

II

They've avoided the conversation all day, but when they finally return home from a late dinner at Granny's with Red and Belle, they both know it's coming. Even the happy news from Henry that he and Emma will both be back tomorrow can't distract from that.

"You don't want to go back," David says in a flat voice as he leans against the kitchen counter.

"You saw what it was like," Snow argues. She looks up at him, willing him to understand. "There were ogres again. Our castle was in ruins."

"We can fix all that!" he exclaims eagerly. So like him, she thinks faintly. Such optimism. Such faith. "Don't you see, that's why we should go back. To make things right, to fight..."

"I'm tired of fighting," she says softly, putting a hand on his chest. "We spent so much of our time fighting to right everything and it still ended up wrong. We lost her. We lost our land."

"No," he says. "We got her back. We can get our land back."

"We might not get both," she says sadly. "Do you think Emma would want to go back with us? Because I am not leaving her again."

"We can at least give her the choice," he argues. "Snow, Storybrooke hasn't exactly been safe for us either. Cora almost killed you. King George is still out there. Rumpelstiltskin is still in control here."

She breathes, feeling his hand move slowly up and down her back. "I just want our happy ending."

"Hey," he says softly, putting his finger under her chin and tilting her head up to look at him. "We will get our happy ending. I know it."

"But when?" she asks and he has no answer to that.

II

Henry falls asleep in the backseat as they drive into Storybrooke. Neal keeps glancing into the mirror to look at him, Emma notices. It makes it harder to hate him and she dearly wants to hate him. It's a lot easier than the other option.

"That was some stunt you pulled," she comments to Neal. "Dumping your father in New York and getting us on another flight."

"Just making sure he got the message," Neal replies.

"What message?"

"That I'm not going to Storybrooke for him."

"Right," she agrees. "And you couldn't have given him this message by just telling him?"

Neal gives her something that might be a smile and she has to fight an urge to smile back. "Was I a terribly dramatic and petulant teenager doing this?"

"Kinda."

"Sorry," he says, but doesn't sound like he is. How very, very 'teenager' of him, Emma thinks, and has to fight really hard not to smile.

II

"I'm so tired," Snow whispers and David kisses her forehead. He hates this. He hates seeing his wife like this, like a star dimmed. He knows she'll shine brighter again and this fatigue will pass, but he still hates it.

"I know," he says. Her skin feels cold when he touches it and he draws his hand across, hoping to warm her through his touch. "But Snow, we have something worth fighting for. We have Emma. We have Henry."

She nods at that, her expression changing. Yes. Snow, always protective Snow. He knows her. She loves too fiercely to surrender her family. Herself maybe. Never her family.

"We have this worth fight for too," he says fiercely and dips his head down to kiss her. It is her lips that tug impatiently at his, though, and her arms that go around his neck to press him even closer. The eagerness of her response makes him groan and lets his own hands roam her body as much as he can with the front of it flush against his own.

As she focuses on the kiss, he focuses on touching her. He draws his fingers down her neck, and feels the arch in her back with his palm as she curves into his body and lets his thumb draw circles across the cloth of the shirt that covers her breasts.

She bites down on his bottom lip at that and he groans, with it turning into a moan as she moves to suck on that tender spot she knows all too well by his collarbone.

Right. She might not be so tired after all, he finds, and doesn't mind at all.

II

As they park outside what is now her home in Storybrooke too, Emma draws a shuddering breath and tries to steel herself. For all the reassurances Mary Margaret gave her, Emma can't help but feel as if she's letting David and Mary Margaret down. She knows it is an irrational thought, but that doesn't make it go away.

What makes it worse is that she recognizes the car pulling up behind them. It would be hard not to, given it's the sheriff's.

Graham. Normally he's a sight for appreciative eyes, but Emma kinda wishes she wasn't looking at him with Neal looking at her. This could get awkward.

At least Henry is still sleeping – it is late, after all – and looking quite dead to the world. As Emma exits the car, Graham comes walking up to her with a very becoming smile on his lips.

"Hey Graham," she says. "This is..."

He kisses her before she can finish and she can hear Neal make a noise behind her. It does not sound happy, but she ignores that. She lets the kiss last long enough to let Graham know it's not unwelcome, then she pulls back.

"Missed you," he says, drawing his thumb across her cheek. "You were saying?"

"This is Neal Cassidy," Neal says and Graham shifts his gaze onto him. "Just a hunch that was what she was going to say."

Graham holds out a hand that Neal shakes it as the two men regard each other. "I'm Graham."

Before either of them can get into too many details of who the other is, Emma puts a hand on Graham's arm and makes him look at her again. "Graham, could you do me a favor?"

"Anything," he says simply.

"Watch Henry while I introduce Neal to my parents. We have to sort out a few things I don't want Henry to hear. I think he'll sleep through it, so just keep an eye on him in the car?"

"Of course," he says, giving Neal a brief look again. "If he wakes up, I'll let him ride in the sheriff car. Just give me a call when you want him and I'll take him inside."

"Thank you," she says and kisses him briefly. Not because Neal is there. Just because.

II

There are a number of ways to know you're a parent, David has learned. There is that first moment when your child opens their eyes and you know you would do anything to make them happy. There is that moment that never comes back when they say their first word and it's an attempt at 'daddy'. There are all the moments when you just watch them and marvel at how much of you and your spouse is in them and yet they're an entirely independent being.

There is also the look of horror, disbelief and utter trauma that only a child walking in on their parents can manage. The look Emma is wearing right now as she stands staring on the other side of the very open bedroom door. She's got someone with her too, a man.

Oh shit, David dimly thinks. Because this is truly walking in on the act, there is no doubt about that. Snow is straddling him, he's still hard inside her and he has his hands halfway up her naked back for support. He's got his fingers tangled in her hair as well while she's kissing a path of across his chest, still unaware of their company.

What makes it worse is that their clothes are scattered all over the floor and the covers are too tangled to be of use as cover without a lot of fumbling. He should have closed the bedroom door, he decides. He definitely should have closed the bedroom door. Which he would have normally, except Emma and Henry were supposed to come home tomorrow and not tonight.

At least they're on the bed and not on the kitchen table, he reflects, which was where the foreplay started. And Henry isn't with them, which also helps.

"Snow!" he says and she looks up, then turns her head to follow his gaze.

Mother and daughter look at each other and David has a moment to reflect just how matching their expressions are as he looks from one to the other.

"Emma!" Snow gasps, covering herself with as much as David's body as she can manage. "I thought you would be home tomorrow!"

"My bad," the man next to Emma says. "Neal Cassidy. Hi. I got us on an earlier flight home."

"Yeah," Emma says. "Right. Introductions. Neal, this is David and Mary Margaret aka Snow and Charming. David and Mary Margaret, this is Neal Cassidy aka Baelfire. And now I am going to go introduce myself to some alcohol. Maybe you two could get dressed and join us?"

"Yeah," David says, trying to look as dignified as he can manage wearing nothing but Snow. "Um, where's Henry?"

"Henry's sleeping in the car. I got Graham watching him," Emma says and with that she closes the door and they can hear her walk away followed by Neal. Snow still looks horrified as she stares at the now closed door, but he can't contain the urge to laugh anymore.

"David!" Snow says sternly, but he can see her lips turn upwards as well. "We just traumatized her."

"Yep," he agrees. "Now we truly are her parents."

She looks at him sternly for a few seconds longer, her cheeks still ablaze and warm to his touch as he cups her face. Then she too laughs, leaning her forehead against his.

"I guess we truly are," she says wistfully.

II

"So your parents," Neal remarks, sitting down on the couch. "True love, huh?"

"Shut up," Emma says firmly, thinking of drowning herself in a vodka bottle. Or maybe tequila. "This didn't happen, we saw nothing and we will never speak of it again."

He nods, but then he looks up at her with a strange expression. "Cherish it."

"What?"

"Cherish it. That your parents love each other that much. I know it's awkward to walk in on and you probably want quite a lot of vodka right now, but your parents really truly loving each other? Cherish that."

"Because you know so well what it's like to have that?"

"Because I know what it's like not to have that," he says and she leaves it at that.


	63. Chapter Sixty-Two

II

**Chapter Sixty-Two**

II

Present day

II

Bringing the ex-boyfriend to meet the parents who are also the adoptive parents to the kid he fathered was always going to be awkward, Emma reflects. But coming home a day early to catch said parents at it like bunnies in heat... - that really doesn't help the awkward factor.

At least they've put on clothes now, David in slacks and a t-shirt and Mary Margaret in a robe. And however awkward they must be feeling, that doesn't stop them from giving Neal some very pointed glances.

Emma finds she rather likes that, all things considered.

"Henry's fine. He just had a long day," she starts with. It feels like the safest conversation topic to begin with and both David and Mary Margret light up at the mention of his name. "I thought maybe you'd want to have a few words with Neal first without any risk of Henry overhearing. We haven't told him yet."

"Mutual decision," Neal says before David and Mary Margaret can comment. "I know you've raised him the last ten years and he considers you his parents. I'm not here to dispute that. I want what's best for Henry."

"We do too," Mary Margaret agrees after a moment.

"And for Emma," David adds, giving Neal a very hard look.

"I can look after myself," Emma interjects. Mary Margaret and David both look at her, and it reminds her so strongly of the way they look at Henry that she has to look down.

"We know," Mary Margaret says gently. "Doesn't mean we won't want to look after you as well."

"Right," Emma manages, as a more coherent response escapes her. "So are you okay with Henry spending some time with Neal?"

David and Mary Margaret exchange a look and she once again marvels how much they manage to communicate without words. She definitely has to learn that. Maybe she can work on it with Graham. It would definitely help while at work and maybe with a few other things as well.

Or maybe she would just like something like that in her life in general.

"Yeah," David says finally. "With Emma or one of us present at first, though. No offense, but..."

"I'm Rumpelstiltskin's son?" Neal suggests.

"You're a stranger to us and to Henry," David says sharply. Mary Margaret puts a hand on his knee and he exhales slowly before speaking again. "Unless you prove yourself to be like him, I won't hold your father against you."

Neal seems to take that in, then smiles softly. "All right. I'll leave you to it then. I'll be getting a room at Granny's, per Emma's recommendation."

"I'll follow you out," David says and rises. Emma and Mary Margaret both give him a pointed look that he returns with a slightly defensive look. "I'll bring Henry in!"

Neal looks a bit apprehensive at the prospect, but does follow David out the door and down the stairs. Emma can hear David's voice after a few moments; she can't make out the words but she can make out the tone and she rather likes it, all things considered.

"Thanks. For being so calm about this," Emma says softly. "I know this probably wasn't what you imagined with a closed adoption."

"Emma," Mary Margaret says lovingly. "We got much more than we could ever have hoped for when we adopted him. We got a son and we got our daughter back."

Emma has to swallow before she can trust her voice. "Yeah, but you probably weren't hoping for Rumpelstiltskin joining the family."

"As your father would say, we already have a former Evil Queen in the family, what's a Dark One as well?" Mary Margaret jokes and Emma manages a weak smile as she looks down on her hands.

"Do you trust Neal?" Mary Margaret asks seriously and Emma lifts her gaze to see her mother look at her with gentle eyes.

"I don't know," Emma answers honestly. She remembers that first day in jail, the staggering disbelief that he would do that to her. She remembers August's words too, and Neal's feelings about his father. "To not hurt Henry? Yeah, I think I do."

Mary Margaret nods slowly, putting her hand on Emma's.

"You guys trusted me with Henry before you even knew me," Emma says as the thought occurs to her. That was before the curse broke, of course. Maybe David and Mary Margaret Nolan were just more trusting than Snow White and Prince Charming, but somehow she thinks that's not all it is. "You even let me be alone with him."

Mary Margaret thinks about that, then smiles. "Yeah, we did. I think maybe even then a part of us knew who you were. You felt... I don't know, you felt familiar. You felt like family even before we remembered that you were."

"Oh," Emma says. She doesn't have any other good answer to that or at least any answer that won't make her break down.

"How are you doing?" Mary Margaret asks softly.

"I don't know," Emma says again and closes her eyes. She feels tired and overwhelmed and not sure what else. Neal is back in her life. The guy who broke her heart and she isn't sure she ever truly mended it.

She can feel Mary Margaret move to sit down next to her and put an arm around her. Very, very carefully Emma leans into her mother's embrace and lets it comfort her for a while.

II

Henry is sound asleep even when David picks him up from the backseat. Kidnapping and adventure probably takes its toll on a young prince, and it definitely takes its toll on his parents, David knows.

Neal is watching as David eases Henry out of the car. There is something wistful in Neal's expression, something that lessens David's desire to punch the guy out a little. A very little. Miniscule amount.

"He's a good kid," Neal says softly.

"Yeah, he is," David agrees. That at least he won't argue with. "Thanks, Graham."

"No problem. Glad to see him safe home," Graham says, giving Neal another look as if trying to figure the guy out.

"Would you mind giving Neal a lift to Granny's inn? He'll be staying in Storybrooke a while," David goes on, trying to keep his voice even and neutral and Graham raises an eyebrow at that terrible attempt.

"Sure," Graham says easily. "Hop in. Good night, David. Give my regards to Snow."

With that, Graham heads back to the sheriff's car and Neal gives an awkward sort of shrug that probably qualifies as a goodbye as he follows.

"Dad?" Henry murmurs sleepily and David smiles down at his son and hugs him a little closer. Their son is safe and well and with them again. That is a good thing. A very, very good thing.

"Right here, kid," he says softly as he begins walking back inside. "Welcome home, my little adventurer."

"Not little," Henry objects before his eyes close again and David chuckles softly. No indeed. Henry is growing up. All children do. You can blink your eyes and suddenly they're 28 years old and all grown up.

Emma, David thinks and remembers her as a baby. She was so light in his arms then, no burden at all. His daughter.

It is quiet when he walks in the door, shutting it softly behind him with Henry still in his arms. For a moment he thinks Snow and Emma have gone to bed, then he sees them and the sight makes him pause.

Emma is leaning into Snow, who is holding her daughter with tears in her eyes. Emma's eyes are closed, but he can still read the expression on her face and it makes him want to cry too.

Snow looks up at him and he gives her a brief nod before heading up the stairs with his precious cargo. Henry makes a few noises of protest when David removes his coat before tucking him in, but doesn't wake up again.

"Goodnight, son," David whispers, kissing Henry on the forehead and tip-toeing out. He watches Henry in the light of the room for a moment longer, becoming acutely aware of just how much he's missed his son now that Henry is back home.

Emma too, he thinks happily. His family reunited again. This time, he won't let them become separated again. He'll keep them together, no matter what.

Emma and Snow still haven't moved when he comes back downstairs and very carefully he sits down on the other side of Emma. She tenses a little when he puts an arm around her, but then relaxes again and even leans slightly against his arm. She's still so light in his arms; still no burden at all. His daughter.

Emma, he thinks and wishes he could carry all her burdens and take all the pain away from her. All he can do is press a soft kiss to the side of his head and tell her he's right there.

II

"So who are you?" Graham asks pointedly. Neal has been expecting the question since he got in the car. He has to give the sheriff credit for waiting a whole minute before asking it.

"Neal," Neal simply says. What this guy is to Emma apart from being on kissing terms, he isn't sure and he's learned long since to be careful.

Graham considers that. "Neal, huh? Emma left town to find Gold's son and returns with you. You're him, then?"

"I am," Neal replies. So Graham is close enough with Emma that he knows why she left town. Graham seems friendly with her parents as well, or at least friendlier than Neal is at the moment. Not that he blames them. "Guilty as charged, though I would hope it's not a crime."

"Your father isn't exactly Storybrooke's man of the year," Graham says after a moment. Understatement of the year, Neal imagines. All the people here were taken from their lives and put into this world unwillingly by his father.

"Trust me, he isn't dad for the year either," Neal says bitterly. He isn't going to make that mistake. No. He will be there for Henry. He won't abandon him.

No matter what.


	64. Chapter Sixty-Three

II

**Chapter Sixty-Three**

II

Present day

II

Henry wakes in the dark and feels completely confused for a moment. He was in the fire room again, he remembers, but it's fading now and he realizes he's in his own room. Vague memories of dad carrying him come back to him and he smiles. No matter how much he loves adventures with Emma, he loves being home with mom and dad too.

He pads over to Emma's room to peek inside. She is sleeping peacefully and he just watches her for a moment before closing the door again. When she wakes he's going to ask her if she can teach him how to punch people like she did Mr. Gold. He has a feeling it will go well with the sword fighting dad is teaching him.

One mom – Emma - checked on, he pads downstairs to mom and dad's room. They're also sleeping, with dad nestled into mom and with an arm around her. It's a familiar sight, but with a few new details – like dad's sword leaning against the nightstand.

It makes Henry smile as he carefully climbs into bed and under the covers so that he's facing mom. She smiles without opening her eyes as if she knows he's there.

"Hey sweetheart," she murmurs sleepily.

"Hey mom," Henry says back. Dad shifts slightly and lifts his head to rest it against mom's as he too smiles at Henry. "Hey dad."

"Hey kid," dad says sleepily. "Do you want me to tell you a story again?"

"No," Henry says and mom opens her eyes to look at him. "I wanted to tell you one. About my adventure in New York."

"A Henry story, huh?" dad says softly, pressing a kiss to mom's shoulder as mom strangely looks a little sad. Henry isn't sure why. They've always been telling him stories and now he's old enough to have stories on his own that he can tell – that's a good thing, isn't it?

Mom finally smiles, lifting her hand to Henry's cheek and stroking gently before lowering it again. "Tell me your story, Henry."

Henry does, and mom and dad listen with linked hands and expressions that seem sad and proud at the same time.

II

Neal wakes with a start, almost calling out into the dark. It takes him a moment to realize it is a dream and that he isn't falling into another portal while his father simply watches. It's just a nightmare.

Again.

Meeting his father hasn't taken the nightmares away. He had hoped they would, but when centuries haven't gotten rid of them, one meeting doing the trick might be too much to hope for.

Of course, now being in Storybrooke means there will be more meetings with his father. He will have to endure that and remember what he is here for. Henry. This is for Henry.

(And Emma, he doesn't dare think.)

With a sigh, he gets out of bed and gets dressed. He knows there will be no more sleeping anyway. Might as well get an early start to the day. He'll need coffee though, so he heads into the diner. There is hardly anyone there, just a woman sitting by the counter as well as the one he learned was Ruby yesterday while checking into the inn.

"Morning," he says to Ruby, who gives him a friendly smile. "Coffee?"

"Coming right up," she promises. He can feel the other woman looking strangely at him.

"Something wrong?" he asks.

"Sorry," she says. "You just looked strangely familiar."

"First time here," he says. "Neal. Neal Cassidy."

"Belle," she says, taking his offered hand. "Belle French."

II

Emma wakes up with a headache and a sense of being overwhelmed even before she can quite remember why. Then it slowly comes back to her, one knockout after another. Being found by the son she gave up. Meeting his parents. Fighting a dragon. Realizing Henry's parents were also hers. Graham. Falling into another world. Nearly losing her parents to a vengeful asshole king and a sorceress. Learning she had magic. Coming home. Learning Henry was missing. Learning Baelfire was Neal. Meeting Neal again. Coming home to true love being on display a little too much.

Ow, she thinks distantly. It is so much and it's not over. She's living with her almost overwhelmingly loving parents (at least overwhelming when you've never had anyone love you enough to keep you). Neal is back in her life, and there's Graham. Henry is now Mr. Gold's grandson and she doesn't like the implication of that one bit.

Ow. She doesn't want to get up, but at the same time she's lived her life pushing back and she can't kick that habit now. So she gets out of bed and pads quietly over to Henry's room.

He isn't there.

The panic is almost overwhelming and she completely freezes before trying to remind herself there are many perfectly legitimate reasons he might not be sleeping. It doesn't have to mean anything. It doesn't.

With that mantra she hurries downstairs. The kitchen is quiet, as well as the bathroom, but when she finally dares looking into David and Mary Margaret's room she sees three shapes in bed.

Oh. She exhales and inhales several times until her breath feels more normal again. He's fine. They're all fine, in fact. Her whole family.

"Hey Emma!" Henry calls and she realizes she's been spotted. Hesitantly, she walks in and over to the bed. Henry has one side of the bed while David and Mary Margaret are nestled together under the covers on the other side. They both look sleepy, something she knows is her fault given how late they were up just sitting with her. She would feel guilty if she wasn't overwhelmed by everything else that made her feel. Loved, most of all.

"Hey, kid," she greets Henry, who is looking the least sleepy of any of them. "What are you doing?"

"Morning story time," Henry says, as if that explains everything. He scoots closer to David and Mary Margaret and it takes her a moment to realize he's making room for her.

Oh.

David and Mary Margaret both look up at her with bright, hopeful eyes and Henry beams at her. Slowly, Emma lies down on the bed next to him, though on top of the covers. She isn't sure she's ready to be under them yet, if ever.

"I just told them about our New York adventure," Henry says excitedly. She wonders just how much he actually picked up about what went on in New York and who Neal is, but asking him would probably just further his curiosity.

"So I missed story time," she concludes.

"No!" Henry protests. He wants her to feel a part of this, she realizes. "Dad is going to tell a story too, isn't he?"

David smiles. "Not sure I could match yours, Henry."

"Or the last one you told me," Emma interjects. "It's hard to top the one where Mary Margaret knocked you out and tied you to to a tree."

David chuckles and Mary Margaret looks slightly embarrassed, but does smile.

"Filling her in on the family history, are we?" Mary Margaret says, shifting position to lie on her back, looking up at David. He smiles down at her, rubbing his nose against hers for a moment.

"Just the highlights," he says.

"You being knocked out is considered a highlight?" Emma jokes and Mary Margaret and Henry both laugh while David smiles bashfully. "All right, what have you got to top that?"

David seems to think, and Mary Margaret looks at him with such affection Emma thinks that Neal might have a point after all. Maybe it is something to cherish, especially when Mary Margaret turns the gaze on Emma with the same amount of affection.

"There is the time your mother staged a rescue operation to save me from King George," David says slowly. "But I think that is more her story."

"Only until the apple," Mary Margaret says softly, putting a hand on his cheek. "After that, it's yours, with the escape from Regina, the dragon, waking me with true love's kiss and following up with a proposal."

"Why don't you tell it together then?" Henry suggests, sounding excited by the prospect. David and Mary Margaret exchange a look and then look at Emma as if to ask permission.

"Yeah, why don't you," Emma says in an as unaffected a voice as she can manage, which isn't much of one.

"Once upon a time a princess had to save her love, a shepherd come prince, from a tyrannical king..." Mary Margaret starts and Emma listens while Henry nestles against her and David looks at them all with bright, bright eyes.

Her life might have become a hot mess, Emma considers, but she wouldn't give it up for anything anymore.

II

The phone rings and Neal gives Belle an apologetic smile before answering. "Yeah?"

"Hey baby," Tamara says on the other end. "How is life in Maine?"

"How is life in New York?" he counters.

"Good. I think I found a valuable asset to my portfolio today," she says and he can tell from the tone in her voice that she must have found something good indeed. "Listen, I will come join you in Storybrooke soon. I just have a few things here to clear up."

"Take your time," he says, thinking of all the awkward explanations he will have to offer when she arrives. Fairytales and unknown sons and family trees that require advanced mathematics to make out, to mention some.

"I went by your apartment yesterday," she goes on.

"Oh?" he says, his imagination coming up with some very unpleasant scenarios involving his father. "Did you meet anyone there?"

"No," she says and he breathes a sigh of relief. "Just wanted you to know I picked up a few things there. I'll bring them with me."

"Okay," he says. "I'll see you soon. Love you."

"Love you," she replies and hangs up. He smiles at the phone before putting it back in his pocket and returning his attention to Belle.

"Sorry about that."

"Not at all," Belle says. She smiles wistfully. "Love can be a rather wonderful thing, can't it? If you can enjoy it, you should. Because it doesn't always last and it isn't always enough."

"Tell me about it," he says darkly.

"Past love?" she suggests.

"Father," he says, then thinks of Emma. "And a past love too. Maybe. You?"

"Current love," she says and smiles distantly.

"To love working out then," he says and pushes his coffee cup against hers in a mock toast.

"To love working out," she agrees and sounds hopeful that it will. "For both of us."


	65. Chapter Sixty-Four

II

**Chapter Sixty-Four**

II

Present day

II

This. This is how he would be happy to spend all his days, David considers and looks around his kitchen and his family.

They're all here, to begin with. Henry. Emma. Snow. All gathered around a table and eating breakfast while chatting. Such a normal, everyday thing for most, but they've had 28 years with a part of their family missing. (They may not have remembered that under the curse, but they still felt it.) So this is not an everyday thing for them yet, but he has hope it will become so

This. No matter what other problems they face, if he has this, he can be happy.

Snow brushes her foot against him under the table and he lifts his gaze to see her smiling at him as if she knows what he is thinking. With that smile she looks even more fair and lovely and he drinks it in.

"How about we make this a family day?" he suggests, and Henry and Emma looks up from their debate over which cereal is superior. "Henry doesn't have school and none of us have work and no Storybrooke crisis seems to have occurred yet."

"No 'Charmings Signal' in the sky yet, huh?" Emma jokes and Henry looks at her. "You know, like the bat signal."

"Oh!" Henry says excitedly. "Could we make a Charmings signal?"

"I don't know," Snow says, smiling affectionately at him. "You would have to design it first."

"And Emma could teach me how to punch people in the face like she did Mr. Gold," Henry goes on, clearly warming to the idea of a family day.

David raises an eyebrow and looks at Emma. "You punched Gold in the face?"

"Yeah," Emma says, looking slightly abashed.

"Good," Snow says briskly and the surprise on Emma's face makes David smile.

"Very good," he adds seriously and Emma looks up at him. Slowly, she starts smiling too. With a smile like that she looks even more fair and lovely, just like her mother, and he drinks it in.

"So family day," Emma says after a moment, looking a little self-conscious. It is probably from the way they're all looking at her, he's guessing. "What would this family day entail apart from face-punching skills and sign designing?"

II

The phone rings and Graham can see from the contact picture that it's Emma. It makes him smile even before he picks it up.

"Hey gorgeous. That is not your boss talking by the way, since it's your day off."

"How long have you been planning that line?" Emma replies and he can hear voices in the background. Probably with her family, then. Best to keep it clean unless he wants Snow and Charming fighting each other to stare at him with disapproval.

"You have zero confidence in my ability to be charming on the spot, huh?"

"Not zero. Just a low enough number that I wouldn't put my money on it."

He chuckles. "So - to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

"We're having a family day today," she says, and he notes the 'we'. It makes him happy, not just for her but also for Snow and Charming. He remembers how much they wanted the family they're now putting back together. "But I was thinking tonight..."

"Yeah?" he prompts. He has a good idea where she is going with this, but he still wants her to say it. He wants her to be the one to make this move.

"Maybe we can go out," she rushes out, then exhales. "There are a few things we should talk about as well and... And... It would be nice."

"It's a date," he says softly.

II

There it is again, Belle feels and she puts a hand on her chest. Pain. Pain in her heart. It started last night and again this morning – sometimes it's a sharp, jagged pain and sometimes it's more like an ache.

Something's wrong. Sure, she feels metaphorically heartbroken over what Gold has gone and done, but this isn't metaphorical. This is literal. This is physical. It hurts.

This is Gold's heart. Is he in pain? Maybe his reunion with his son isn't going too well and that is why he's hurting.

"Excuse me," Neal says, looking outside to where the truck belonging to the Charmings is pulling up. "It was nice to meet you, Belle."

"You too," she says absentmindedly, focusing on breathing as the pain fades again. A few moments later the door opens and she looks up to see David walk into the diner with a smile.

"Hey Belle. Ruby, could I get four hot chocolates to go?" he asks. He sounds happy too.

"Anything for our Prince Charming," Ruby says brightly. "Where are you taking Snow, Emma and Henry?"

"Family day," he says sheepishly, but not hiding the joy over it very well. But then, he doesn't seem the type to want to hide his love for his family. More like bask in it.

"Emma and Henry are back?" Belle asks and David shifts his attention to her.

"Yeah, they came home last night. No worse for wear," he assures her.

"Good," Belle says, and means it. "And Mr. Gold... Did he find his son?"

"Yeah," David says, but sounding less enthused now. "Turns out Gold's son was... Well, an old friend of Emma's, Neal Cassidy."

The man she met earlier this morning, Belle remembers. That's why he felt familiar. He's Rumpelstiltskin's son. Rumpel found his son. She can't help but feel happy for him over that.

"Oh," she says. "Is Gold back as well?"

"No," David says, accepting the tray with cups from Ruby. "I think he's coming back today. I'm sure he'll let you know when he gets back. Have a good day, Belle."

"Have a good day, David," she says automatically. Gold found his son, but his son went home the day before him. Reunion probably didn't go too well then. That could explain the heartache.

And yet she can't help feeling like something is terribly, terribly wrong.

II

Henry is watching Emma and Neal chatting outside the diner very intently, Snow notices. Every now and then Neal glances over and she can see the longing even if he masks it fairly well.

"You shouldn't stare, honey," she says gently and Henry looks up at her.

"I'm not staring," he protests. "I'm evaluating him."

She smiles at the word choice, feeling pretty sure he must have picked it up from her mentioning evaluating her students' work back when she was simply Mary Margaret Nolan the school teacher.

"Evaluating him for what, Henry?"

"Emma's true love," Henry says and Snow feels her heart skip a beat. "Like you have dad. I think mom Emma should have one too, don't you?"

"Of course," Snow manages. "But Henry, I think Emma might want to... Well, do those evaluations on her own."

Henry seems to consider that. "Graham kissed her. Do you think she's evaluating him?"

Snow looks desperately for rescue from her husband, but he's paused just outside the diner to exchange a few words with Archie.

"He didn't break any curse when he kissed her," Henry goes on, frowning as he thinks. "Not like when dad woke you from the sleeping curse."

"Not all kissing is done to break curses, Henry," Snow says gently.

"I _know_ ," Henry says, giving her a look. "You and dad kiss a lot without being cursed. But it would easier to know if she was Graham's true love if he had broken a curse when he kissed her."

The logic is pretty impressive, she has to admit.

"I just want her to be happy," Henry goes on. "Dad makes you happy."

"I know," she says softly. She throws another look at her husband, this time filled with love. He looks up as if he can feel it and his smile is warm as he starts walking over to them. "But Henry, she already has a true love in her life. You. She woke you from the sleeping curse, remember? Only true love's kiss does that."

"Oh," Henry says. He lights up. "Do I make her happy, mom?"

"More than anything," she promises, thinking of the change she's seen in her daughter with regards to Henry.

"So do you," Henry says, and Snow thinks that maybe, just maybe (and oh how she hopes so) her son could be right.

II

"So I'll bring Henry over and we'll have lunch at the diner tomorrow," Emma sums up and Neal nods. He is quite aware that Henry is looking at him curiously from the truck and that Emma's parents are keeping a more guarded eye on him as well. Given what he did to their daughter and what his father did to them, Neal can't really blame them.

He still wishes he could change those gazes into something more accepting, and make the hurt in Emma's eyes vanish completely.

"I look forward to it," he says. "So you're having a family day?"

"Yeah," she says, glancing over at the truck where her family waits for her. She can't hide the way her face softens and it reminds him of how happy she was in their brief time together. He also remembers all too well how happy he was. "I'll see you tomorrow, Neal."

With that, she walks away. He watches her get into the truck as well, her father squeezing her shoulder as she finds her seat. Then the truck drives away and he is left looking at an empty street.

"Neal?" a voice says behind him. He turns around to see Belle, the young woman from the diner, looking at him with a worried expression.

"Yeah?"

"I know your father," she says and he barely has time to absorb what that might mean before she continues. "Have you heard from him today?"

"No," he says. "But he is probably quite aware I don't want to see him."

Belle nods, as if she understands that and he wonders if she knows what his father did to him. "Do you think he would really stay away from you?"

"Probably not," he admits. His father created a curse that ripped a whole land into this one just to find him again.

She nods slowly. "I think something may have happened to him."

"What makes you say that?" he asks, trying to sound as if he doesn't care. His father in trouble? It's hard to imagine and even harder to know to be sure how he feels about that.

"My heart," she says simply, and that's all the explanation she offers.

II

In the dark, Rumpelstiltskin tries to use his magic again, but again there is nothing there. No magic. No power. Nothing of what he's clung to all these centuries and that he's defined himself by.

He is helpless. Powerless. Captured.

And it hurts.


	66. Chapter Sixty-Five

II

**Chapter Sixty-Five**

II

Present day

II

"This is your idea of family day," Emma says and David smiles at her while Mary Margaret chuckles. They're outside town but well inside the town limit, by a playground in the forest that apparently Regina campaigned to have put up and Mr. Gold begrudgingly granted. That is fair enough. It's something for Henry to do after he finishes making different versions of the Charming bat signal with sticks.

It's the wooden swords, the real swords, the bow and arrows and so on placed by the picnic they've laid out that seem a bit unusual for a day out. Though she really shouldn't be surprised, Emma reflects. Of course this would be Snow White and Prince Charming's idea of family activities.

They've put down blankets to sit on or wrap yourself in as well, and there are a few books (Henry's included) and even a board game. She has no idea what a family day looks like – she's never had one – but they seem to have covered a lot of options.

"We can do something else if you want," Mary Margaret says hesitantly and David nods emphatically.

"Anything you want, Emma," he says, and now it's Mary Margaret who nods.

Oh, Emma thinks. Her parents might be feeling as insecure about this new family dynamic as she is. They don't want to let her down, she realizes. They might have raised Henry but they didn't raise her and they don't want her to feel less loved for it. She can see it in their eyes. Oh. Oh.

"This is great," she manages and David and Mary Margaret's smiles go from hesitant to genuine. "Isn't it, kid?"

"Yeah," Henry says. He's got his eyes on the swords and can't seem to waste much attention on anything else. "Can we continue our lesson, dad?"

"Sure," David says, ruffling Henry's hair but his gaze remains on Emma. "But I thought maybe Emma would like a go too."

"With swords?" she says asks. "You and me?"

"Yes." With one hand, he reaches for a sword and goes down on one knee as he offers it to her. "For you, my princess."

She accepts it, looking down at him and feeling a mix of pride, embarrassment and so much love it makes her breath catch. They're really, really trying. They really want to give her everything they have to give. They're trying to make up for 28 years even if they can't.

"And after, if you want, I can teach you how to use a bow and arrow," Mary Margaret says, putting a hand on Henry's shoulder. "And Henry too, of course."

"Yes!" Henry says excitedly. He beams at Emma and his happiness is infectious, as always. She swallows the lump in her throat and smiles at him until she trusts her voice.

"So no tiaras and ball gowns and teaching me how to dance?" she finally asks, testing the weight of the sword in her hand as David rises. "I thought that was what being a princess was all about."

"Not our princess," Mary Margaret says and David nods. "Besides, we'll get to all that in time."

"Oh no," Emma says in mock horror (and a little genuine horror too). "How about we just stick with the weapons for now?"

II

Regina drinks her coffee slowly, rubbing her temple every now and then. So far, her search for the dagger has turned up only dead ends. As was to be expected, really. If it was too easy to find it, she would know it was a fake.

"Hey," Ruby says and Regina looks up a little startled.

"Oh, I don't need another," she says.

"Good, because I didn't come to ask about a refill," Ruby says, her smile a little hesitant. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for your loss. And I heard from Snow what you did, so I wanted to say thank you as well."

"Oh," Regina says, completely at a loss for how to respond. "Thank you."

"Granny and I were wondering when the funeral was. We figured Snow and Charming would probably come, but we wanted to as well. I think the dwarfs might come too."

"For Snow and Charming's sake?"

"No," Ruby says. "For yours."

"Oh," Regina says again. "It will probably be in a few days. I'll let you know."

"Okay," Ruby says, squeezing Regina's shoulder for a moment. "Let me know if you need that refill at some point and it will be on the house."

"Thanks," Regina says and Ruby offers another smile before walking away. Friendly, Regina considers. Red Riding Hood and her grandmother being friendly to her, even compassionate? The dwarfs caring? She's never had that before.

Snow, Regina can understand. Snow always wanted to see the best in her and wanted it so desperately. Charming loves Snow enough to see with her, so that she can understand too. But everyone else? After everything she's done?

In fact, as she looks around the diner people meet her gaze without fear. Some even nod at her or give her a brief smile. These are not strangers, either. She knows these people from the Enchanted Forest. They looked at her back then too, but with anger or fear.

And now... Now it's all changed.

They're not seeing the Evil Queen anymore, she realizes. They're seeing Regina, and maybe she's starting to as well.

II

Emma and Henry are laughing as David is kneeling and pleading for mercy, and it's the most beautiful sound in all the realms, Snow is pretty sure. Her two kids have ganged up on David after being defeated individually and are now victorious, though she can tell from the wink he's giving her he could win if he really wanted.

But what he really wants is what she wants – the happiness of their children, and currently that is being achieved.

"You've bested Prince Charming," David says, holding his hands out as he backs away. "I'm going to let your mother nurse my wounded ego for a while."

With that, he drops down on the blanket next to Snow and she pats him exaggeratedly on the head until Henry turns to Emma with his wooden sword held up proudly.

"You're on, kid," Emma says, picking up the other wooden sword. The two laugh as they go at it, even if Snow can tell that Emma, just like David, isn't really trying to win.

David makes himself comfortable lying down on the blanket and Snow nestles against him. She rests her head on his chest and he kisses the top of her head lazily while they watch their children at it.

They would have done this in the Enchanted Forest too, Snow knows. Taken their daughter with them to the forest. And the children who would have come after her too. They would have played with them and taught them and loved them. If she closes her eyes, she can see it so clearly. How it would have been.

"Snow," David whispers and presses a kiss against her temple as if he knows. Perhaps he does. What she has lost, he has lost also. What could have been and what should have been.

Then she opens her eyes to what they have and tries to find it enough.

II

Belle waits while Neal finishes the call, and she can tell from the look on his face it isn't good news at all.

"He hasn't checked out of the hotel but he hasn't been there all day," Neal says as he hangs up. "He hasn't used the plane tickets. Tamara hasn't seen him either."

"Oh," Belle breathes. It is hard to imagine Rumpelstiltskin in danger with all the power of the Dark One at his disposal, but does magic even work outside of Storybrooke? She isn't sure. "So he's missing."

"Maybe," Neal says. He sounds reluctant to even consider it. If it's because he still has some lingering feelings for his father or some other reason, she isn't sure. "He could be staying away because he knows I want that."

"Maybe," she agrees, thinking of all the things Rumpelstiltskin has done for his son – including taking her heart. "But what if he's not?"

II

Next on the Charming family day agenda: mother and daughter bonding over how to bury an arrow in your enemy. David finds it impossible to look away from, two heads pressed closed together with one dark and one light and both equally fair.

"Like this," Snow says, straightening Emma's arm as Emma holds the bow and pulls the string back. "Now let it go."

Emma does; the arrow buries itself soundly in the tree while Henry cheers and David grins.

"Archer like your mother, huh?" David says, walking over to admire the hit.

"And sword-fighter like your dad," Snow adds, giving him an affectionate look.

"I hate to disappoint both of you, but I think I still prefer guns," Emma says drily as she lowers the bow.

"But bows are cooler," Henry says and Snow gives him a warm smile. "So are swords. I've decided that's going to be our signal. Bow and a sword."

"Oh, the Charming bat signal," David says with a chuckle. "How about we look at the finalized design after lunch?"

Emma agrees with a laugh, and they all sit down to eat. They're halfway through the sandwiches when Snow looks up abruptly. Moments later a few birds fly out of the forest.

"What is it?" David asks in a low voice.

"Someone is in the forest watching us," Snow says, reaching for her bow. David reaches for the sword at the same time while Emma pulls out a gun. Henry grabs his wooden sword and David notices with affection that their son is trying to mimic Emma's determined expression.

Carefully, all four of them approach the trees.

"Hello?" David calls. Something shifts among the trees and then a guy in a leather jacket steps out.

"August?" Emma says in disbelief. "I thought I told you to stay away."

"Just looking out for you from a distance," the guy apparently called August says, and David has no urge to lower his sword at all. "I am going to make this right somehow, Emma."

"Make what right?" Snow asks sharply. She hasn't lowered her bow either. "Stay the hell away from our daughter."

"I can't," August says and Emma rolls her eyes. "I was asked to look after her. I failed her and now I'm turning back into wood. I've been hiding in the forest the last few days."

"Who is this, Emma?" David asks. He is not liking the sound of this, not liking it at all.

But it's August who answers. "Pinocchio. My father carved the wardrobe and sent me through it with Emma."

"What?" Snow says. "The wardrobe only took one."

"No," August says. "It took two."

It took two, David thinks distantly, and watches his wife's heart break as she understands what that means.


	67. Chapter Sixty-Six

II

**Chapter Sixty-Six**

II

Present day

II

Emma watches her parents' expressions, the heartbreak on them is so palpable that she can feel it herself.

"You really didn't know the wardrobe took two, did you?" she asks softly, even though the expressions on their faces are answer enough. And even for all the pain it clearly brings them, she finds herself being a little glad too. They really didn't know. They didn't choose to stay together rather than one of them going with her.

"No," David says in a chocked voice.

"It was my father's condition in return for making the wardrobe," August says and Emma feels an urge to punch him in the face again. He shouldn't be laying this on her parents. He shouldn't. "To save me. He told me to look after Emma and prepare her for what she had to do."

"Your father," Snow says and she looks up at David. "Geppetto. He did it for his child."

David nods slowly. But the gaze he turns on August is all steel. "I remember Pinocchio. A child should never have had a responsibility to look after another child. But now... My daughter is not your absolution. She is not a way to ease your guilty conscience. Leave her the hell alone."

August lowers his head, but then looks up at Emma with determination.

"One day, I will be there for you as I should have been," he vows and turns around and leaves. Emma watches him go with not a small amount of annoyance. Great. Now she's going to have a stalker. Well, continue to have a stalker apparently. And yet, she can't quite fully hate him. She certainly understands making mistakes and trying to make up for them.

"Mom's crying," Henry says and Emma looks up sharply. Mary Margaret is, she can see. She's clearly trying to fight it, but losing, as David pulls her against him.

He is crying too, Emma realizes. More silently than Mary Margaret, but crying nevertheless.

"Mom?" Henry asks in alarm, putting his hands around Mary Margaret. "What's wrong?"

28 years apart is what's wrong, Emma thinks, but says nothing. Instead she too slips her arms around Mary Margaret and then David and holds on.

She doesn't want to let go again, she finds.

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_They've spent so much time fighting to be together that letting go is harder than anything, Charming finds. And so, Snow's lips cling to his and he can't make himself break the kiss. He can't let her go just as she can't let him go. But she is pregnant and he has a meeting with Abigail and Fredrick in their kingdom that will ensure the safety of this kingdom, so he has to leave Snow for a few days. He has to._

_He just doesn't want to and she doesn't want him to and thus the kiss goodbye is lingering and lingering until he finally finds enough willpower to take a step back._

_"I will come back to you both soon," he vows, pressing his hands against her stomach before lowering his head to press a kiss against it._

_"I know," Snow says. Her face is bright as she puts her hands on top of his and they can both feel the baby move. "You have something to come home to."_

_"I have everything to come home to," he says and kisses her again. "I would never leave any of you for long."_

II

Present day

II

Mary Margaret has stopped crying as Emma joins her in the truck, watching Henry and David gathering up the last of their things.

"I'm sorry," Emma says. For her or Mary Margaret or them both, she isn't sure. She could have grown up with a loving mother, that she does know – but then David and Mary Margaret wouldn't have had each other and there would have been no Henry.

"How long have you known about the wardrobe?" Mary Margaret asks.

"A few days," Emma admits. "August told me when he also told me Neal was Henry's dad. He's the one who told Gold as well."

"You could have told us," Mary Margaret says softly. "Or did you think we already knew it took two?"

"I wasn't sure," Emma says and Mary Margaret looks at her with teary eyes.

"Emma, the thought of leaving your father nearly killed me. I was never good at staying away from him. But if I could have gone with you – or if he could have gone with you without me – we would have. Please tell me you know that."

Emma just nods. She doesn't trust her voice. Hesitantly, she takes Mary Margaret's hand and holds it.

Yeah. She thinks she does know.

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_David wakes abruptly, aware that someone is in the tent with him before he even opens his eyes. He can hear it; he can feel it, and he reaches for his sword and gets to his feet at the same time._

_The cloaked person makes a gasp as he yanks them to him and holds the sword against their throat. The hood falls off and in the faint light he realizes he knows all too well who this is._

_"Snow!" he exclaims, lowering his sword and loosening his grip immediately. "What the hell are you doing here?"_

_"Nice to see you too, Charming," she says, rubbing her arm where he gripped her and he realizes to his horror there are marks from his fingers. He lowers his head and kisses the skin before cupping her face in his hands and kissing her lips too._

_"You were meant to be staying home," he reminds her, amusement and anger fighting for space in his voice. "You're pregnant. You shouldn't be riding."_

_"I didn't," she says. "I walked."_

_He stares at her, then just shakes his head and feels his lips curve into a smile against his will. He should be angry – she could have run into robbers, troops still loyal to King George, trolls, anything - and yet he can't sustain it. She walked. She walked across their kingdom just to be able to sleep in his arms again._

_"Of course you did," he says, easing her down on his bedroll and then joining her. "I'm going to be really mad at you tomorrow for this."_

_"You'll try to be," she corrects, drawing her cloak over them both._

_He chuckles, knowing she is right. "How's the baby?"_

_"Fine," she says and he puts his hands on her stomach. "Missing you."_

_"How do you know that?" he asks, kissing her neck as she nestles against him._

_"Because I did," she says, drawing her hand inside his shirt and down his chest. "And our child is going to love you just as much as I do."_

II

Present day

II

The mood is far more muted coming home than it was leaving, David reflects as he opens the door and walks into their home. Even Henry looks sad, hugging Snow while still holding his wooden sword.

Snow smiles down at him, but the smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. He wants to draw her into his arms and kiss the sorrows from her skin, but he can't yet. Not with Emma and Henry here, so he draws his hand across her back for now. She closes her eyes and leans into it.

"I'll take a shower," Emma says as she puts down the empty basket that held their lunch. "Graham is picking me up in an hour. I might be home late."

Right, Emma's date, David remembers. The one he hasn't quite decided how he feels about yet but Snow forbade him from making any threats to Graham over.

"Have a good time, honey," Snow says brightly and Emma smiles gratefully.

"Right," he agrees. "Call if you want me to pick you up or something."

"Thanks," she says dubiously, as if she's wondering what the 'or something' covers. Maybe one day she'll know it covers anything she needs at all.

"If you get cursed, you should let him kiss you," Henry offers and Emma looks at him oddly while Snow stifles a laugh.

"Thanks for that dating advice, Henry," Emma says after a beat, managing to make it sound genuine. "I'll take that shower now."

As David begins putting the weapons away and Snow the blankets, Emma pauses by the bathroom door.

"I had a good time today, by the way," she says and he looks up sharply. So does Snow, he notes. "Thanks."

"We'll do it again," he promises, knowing that promise doesn't just cover family days but family in general. He made one with Snow, they planned one with Emma, they made one with Henry. Now they'll make one with them all. They'll do it again.

"I know," she says softly, and he really, really hopes that she does.

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_"I don't want to do this," Snow whispers again and David can only kiss her as comfort. He has no words to offer, after all. There are no words that can change that tomorrow, they won't see each other again for 28 years._

_The wardrobe will be probably be done tomorrow; Geppetto has told them that and so this is their last night together. They've never been good at staying apart yet now they must, for 28 years._

_"You're going to find me," he whispers, drawing his hand across her stomach. "You both will. You always find me, even if you have to walk across a kingdom to do so."_

_She half laughs, half sobs at the memory and digs her fingers into his arm._

_"You and Emma," he goes on, feeling the baby move against his hands as if she is listening too. "One day you'll find me. You'll see me and you'll call my name..."_

_"Charming," she whispers._

_"Yes," he agrees. "You'll kiss me and I'll remember. I'll know you again. Snow. My true love."_

_"My true love," she echoes. "I love you, Charming."_

_"I love you too," he says. "Please tell Emma I love her too. Don't let her think I'm not there because I didn't love her enough."_

_"Of course not," she says almost angrily. "She would never think that, Charming. She'll know how much you loved her. She'll know. I swear."_

_She chokes a little on the words and closes her eyes as he kisses her eyelids, her nose, her cheeks, the tears streaking her skin, the corners of her mouth and then her lips. She kisses him back then, kisses him as if she never wants it to end, a lingering goodbye kiss that lasts the whole night._


	68. Chapter Sixty-Seven

II

**Chapter Sixty-Seven**

II

Present day

II

"Wow," Graham says. It's about the only word that occurs to him. "Wow."

Emma Swan in a little black dress, her red leather jacket and with red high-heeled shoes would earn 'wow' from anyone, Graham is pretty sure. But then again, he is biased on account of being rather heads over heels for her.

"Not too bad yourself," Emma says as she crosses the street and pauses in front of him. "I'm surprised you're not taking me to Granny's."

"And have the whole town watching and your parents 'accidentally' stopping by? I thought maybe you wanted to avoid that," he says. (And maybe he would too, he doesn't add.)

"I don't know," she counters. "That depends how good your home cooking is."

"The best," he says simply and she raises an eyebrow at his cockiness. "I got it from Granny. Home delivery."

She laughs and he moves in to kiss her and feel the sound of it against his lips. She smiles, her lips curved as he caresses them with her own. But they are in full view of her family should they look out the window, he is quite aware, and pulls away with regret. She looks at him through lowered eyelids as he opens the car door for her, a look he is sure qualifies as indecent behavior and a bookable offense, surely.

As he gets into the car himself, Emma gives him a soft smile that is almost apologetic.

"I have to tell you about Neal," she says.

II

"Are you still sad, mom?" Henry asks as Snow tucks him in. She kisses his forehead while she contemplates her answer and decides to go for the truth.

"A little bit, Henry," she says, drawing her fingers across his forehead and tucking some stray hairs away.

"About what Pinocchio said," Henry guesses. He looks sad as he watches her. "But Emma found us and we're a family now."

"We are," she agrees. "But you see Henry, sometimes grown-ups can be sad about what could have been even if they are happy about what they have now. Your dad and I and Emma love you so very much. We're just a little sad we didn't get to be a full family until now."

Henry considers that. "Do you think I'll understand that when I'm grown up?"

"I hope not," she says sincerely. Oh, how she hopes with all her heart he'll never understand that sort of regret. "Goodnight, honey. I love you."

"I love you too," he says sleepily and closes his eyes. She watches him for a moment longer before getting up and walking downstairs.

David is waiting for her in the bedroom, locking the door behind her the moment she has walked in. He's only wearing his pajamas pants and as he wraps his arms around her from behind, she leans back against his skin.

"Snow," he says gently. She knows he must feel the same grief at what was lost that she does, yet here he is, so concerned with her grief.

"I could have gone with her," she murmurs and he kisses her neck. "But if I had, we wouldn't have had Henry, would we?"

"No," he agrees.

She breathes and feels his hands linger on her stomach as they would so often when she was pregnant. He loved Emma so much from the moment he learned of the pregnancy. Charming the dad, and he never got to be it. David Nolan got to with Henry, but it wasn't quite the same. And yet, it was just as much love.

"I couldn't give up one for the other," she whispers and tilts her head to look at him. "I couldn't give up Henry for Emma or Emma for Henry."

"I know," he says. "You're their mother."

"You're their father," she says and he smiles at that. Charming the dad. She loves Charming the man, but she thinks she may love Charming the dad even more.

She turns in his arms to face him and draws her hands across his chest. He looks at her as she presses a kiss to the skin just above his heart, then lowers his head and catches her lips with his own.

It's a slow, leisurely kiss as if they have all the time in the world, all of eternity to be together. She once thought they would have exactly that and married him with the promise of eternal love. That was before. This is after. They have lost 28 years with Emma and 28 years of knowing who they truly were. That leaves them eternity minus 28 years, and thus every second of it precious.

He draws her bottom lip between his as she draws her thumb across his cheek, feeling his thumb make circles at the exposed skin at her lower back. Without breaking the kiss, he moves them in slow circles towards the bed. It is almost like a dance. Step, tugging at her lips, step, drawing his tongue across her lower lip, step, slanting his mouth across hers, step, kissing her deeply until they're all out of steps and breath both.

She draws a ragged breath as he pulls away, his hands gripping the hem of her shirt. She covers his hands with her own and helps him peel the shirt off, all the while watching him watch her. Even for all the times he's seen her without clothes, he still seems to drink her in every time. Now too, and his gaze makes her breath catch a little.

She steps into him again, feeling his hands be warm against her skin as they move across her back and unhook her bra. His mouth is even warmer as he lowers his head and kisses the exposed skin before finally settling on her left breast with a hand on her right. She moans softly in encouragement; not that he needs it to know the touches are welcome. She's pretty sure he can figure that out by the way he must feel her nipples harden and the way she's arching into him.

She closes her eyes as he continues kissing and caressing, listening to her own uneven breath and moans. He is definitely not indifferent either, as she can feel something hard press against her stomach.

When she lowers her hand to stroke him through cloth it's he who moans against her skin and as she continues, his breath is definitely not steady.

"Snow," he almost growls, then lifts her up and lowers her on the bed. She takes the opportunity to wriggle out of her pants and underwear and he watches her with a dark, possessive gaze that thrills her. He too pauses to shed his pajama pants and underwear before lowering himself next to her.

For a moment, she just watches him. Her husband. Her husband in their bed, just as she wants him to be every night from here to eternity. He looks at her as if he is thinking the same thing about her. Maybe that's the problem with true love, she considers. With so much love for each other, how could they ever be done expressing it to each other?

She presses herself against him as she begins a journey of open-mouthed kisses along his skin and down his chest. He shifts onto his back to make it easier for her while digging his fingers into the covers of the bed. She can see the tension in his body as she moves further down and settles herself between his legs.

He's hard in her hand as she draws her fingers down the length of him without any cloth restricting her this time. His hips grind a little up into her touch, and she puts a hand on his hipbone to steady him. Then she lowers her head and takes as much of him as she can manage in her mouth.

Through lowered eyelids, she can see him soundlessly mouth her name. His head falls back as she continues and his knuckles whiten with the force of his fingers digging into the bed.

She loves watching him like this, loves knowing that it is she doing this to him and that he is as lost to her touch as she is to his. Charming. Her Charming.

"Snow," he growls again and she lifts her head to smile at him. He reaches for her, pulling her flush against his body and flipping her so that he is on top. Before she can reach for him he locks her hands in one of his and lifts them above her head.

"Charming," she protests.

"No," he says simply, lowering his free hand between her legs. Before she can make another sound of protest he kisses her and as she parts her lips against his, he presses two fingers into her.

The sound she makes is swallowed by his kiss, and he continues kissing all the noises she makes as his fingers continue pressing, caressing and brushing. Her own hands remain locked above her head so she can only buck against him and she can feel him grin at that.

"Charming," she growls into the kiss, biting down on his lower lip. He kisses her back softly, finally letting go of her hands and cupping her face instead.

"I love you," he whispers, punctuating each word with the soft pressure of lips against lips. He moves his other hand too, drawing it across her leg as she bends her knee. Her own fingers feel clumsy as she grips his shoulders and he pushes into her in a slow steady motion.

He nips at her lips as she adjusts to the feel of him, so familiar to her body by now. He too, knows her body, using that to his advantage as he sets a leisurely pace that is torture and pleasure at the same time. Every now and then he kisses her as well, teasing her lips with soft touches that never linger as long as she wants.

She thinks she might die and yet feels so alive; her mind a jumble of bodily sensations and a strong sense of love and desire. Finally, finally he pushes his thumb hard against her and thrusts sharply into her at the same time; and her body lets go.

He is watching her when she regains her senses, smiling as if he's very pleased with himself. She would have half a mind to kiss that look off his face, except of course he has good reason to. He's still hard inside her as well, holding still and probably using a great deal of willpower to do so.

When she clenches her muscles around him, he makes a soft noise and when she does it again, he practically growls. She grins at that, pulling him down and kissing him sloppily as she clenches her muscles a third time.

He gives up then, picking up his pace again and she meets every thrust until he makes a strangled cry and falls against her. She draws her nails across his strong shoulders and back but can't summon the strength to do anything more while he regains his breath.

He lifts himself up on an elbow again after a few moments, looking down at her.

"Hey," he whispers, brushing a few strands of hair that is clinging to her flushed cheek behind her ear instead.

"Hey," she echoes. "What are you thinking?"

"That you and I aren't going to get any sleep tonight until our daughter returns from her date," he says.

"Says the daddy," she teases.

"Says the daddy who knows the mommy better than anyone," he counters and she has to give him that.

"So what does the daddy suggest we do to pass the time?" she asks, drawing her hand across his chest.

He smiles wickedly at that, then lowers his head to kiss her lazily. Right. True love's kiss isn't just good for breaking curses, Snow has long since learned. It's also a pretty damn good leisure activity.

(There is one better, of course. But they'll get to that. Again.)


	69. Chapter Sixty-Eight

II

**Chapter Sixty-Eight**

II

Present day

II

Regina drinks her hot cocoa slowly, enjoying the extra taste the cinnamon adds to it. Snow as Mary Margaret Nolan was always suggesting she'd try it like that, but until now Regina hasn't really felt the need to.

Archie Hopper would probably read a million things into her trying it now, and maybe he would even be right. Maybe.

She watches the liquid swirl in the cup, thinking again about the funeral. She has of course known at some level there would be a funeral but she hadn't thought about the particulars. Should she have two, one for her mother and one for her father? Should she have one? Should she bury them together when there was no love there? When there was murder there instead? Should she even have a funeral for her mother, who killed so many and almost killed Snow as well?

Yes, she decides. She will have one funeral for them both, but arrange for two graves so they're not stuck together in death. But she will mourn her mother too, not just her father. She does mourn her mother. The grief she is feeling is not just for her father. No.

After all, it is possible to love someone despite all the terrible things they've done, Regina is starting to learn, as she drinks her hot cocoa with cinnamon and lets it warm her.

II

"So Neal is Henry's father," Graham sums up. Emma can only nod, watching his face intently from across the table. He doesn't look angry or disappointed, at least. Surprised, certainly, but then so was she. "And you didn't know he was Rumpelstiltskin's son?"

"Not until two days ago," she confirms. It feels strange that so little time has passed since her life changed again, but then very little time has passed since she came to Storybrooke in general and yet so much has changed in that time.

And she with it, she's starting to realize.

"And he didn't know you were Snow and Charming's daughter when he met you?" he asks. He doesn't look too enamored with Neal, which rather pleases her, all things considered.

"No," she says. She does believe Neal on that. "He didn't find out until Pinocchio told him."

"Pinocchio? Who is August? The guy who recently came to town?"

"Yes."

Graham shakes his head slightly as he takes it all in. "You sure come with a complicated history."

"Says the huntsman," she counters, thinking of what she knows of him. Raised by wolves, saved her mother's life at the loss of his own heart, got his heart back and lived with her parents until being taken by a curse and becoming the town sheriff. "I read your story in Henry's book."

"A rather unfair advantage," he jokes. "Where is the illustrated version of Emma Swan's life?"

"You wouldn't want to read that," she says, thinking of 28 years of a life where she's only felt truly alive twice: With Neal and here in Storybrooke with... With a whole family.

"Yes, I would," he says softly, but still with so much determination that it makes her loook up sharply. His gaze is the same: soft but steely.

"You would," she says slowly. Stating, not asking this time. "You're okay with this? With Neal coming into town, with him staying here for Henry, with the mess that is my past?"

"I am okay with anything that has led you to be in my life," he says and she sees no lie in him at all. "Emma..."

"Shut up and kiss me," she says. So he does, all the way across the table and then on it.

II

Neal feels stupid sitting like this. Really stupid, in fact. He's sitting on a sidewalk by his father's office waiting to see if said father is coming – said father he abandoned in New York just a day ago.

But that's the thing, really. He can hate his dad for abandoning him, for cursing a whole land, for so many things – but he can't not love him as well. It's his dad. Papa.

It's really, really hard to stop loving someone sometimes, he thinks and tries not to think about Emma as well. For her sake, for Tamara's sake and for his own sake he really shouldn't be thinking about Emma.

Henry. That's who he should be thinking of. Just Henry.

And yet here he is sitting on a cold sidewalk in the dark in the faint hope his father will come. He is thinking of far too many things he shouldn't be thinking of, that much is clear.

"Hey," a voice says. He looks up to see that it's Belle, his father's girlfriend-potential girlfriend-whatever. She is smiling softly, and however stupid he feels sitting here, she seems to find it more touching than anything.

"Hey," he replies. He isn't sure what else to say.

"Can I wait with you?" she asks. He can hear the worry for his father in her voice; she isn't even trying to hide it. It is strangely touching to him; for all he can't forgive his father, he apparently still cares and is glad someone else cares too.

"Yeah," he manages and she sits down next to him. "So you're his..."

"Belle," she says simply. "I knew your father in the Enchanted Forest."

"As the Dark One?"

"Yeah," she agrees. "But I saw something beyond that too. There is good in him. I saw it. He told me about you too. He really wanted to find you again."

"That doesn't change that he abandoned me," he points out, trying to keep his voice even and not accusatory. It's not her fault, after all. Loving someone doesn't make you responsible for their choices. He has to believe that.

"No," she agrees. "But maybe it's a start?"

He looks at his clasped hands, then at her again. "He must have enjoyed that in you."

"What?" she asks, looking confused.

"Your spirit," he says and her smile is radiant like the dawn. His father would have liked that too, Neal is pretty sure. His father. A strange thing to realize after so many centuries that maybe, maybe there is something worth seeing in his father after all.

II

"I should go," Emma says softly, as Graham draws his fingers up and down her arm. "Henry will be expecting me to be there in the morning and I don't want David and Mary Margaret to face a bunch of awkward questions from him."

Or she from them, she doesn't add.

"Mmm," he says, kissing the spot on her shoulder where she still has marks from his teeth, as if that will make them fade faster. "Stay. Not for the night, I know you want to get back to your family. But just for a little while."

She considers that, drawing her hand across his chest. Here is a guy willing to accept her past, accept that her ex and father of her son is now in her life again, who laughs at her jokes and makes terrible jokes in return, who kisses her both lovingly and roughly depending on what she wants, who will possibly not get murdered by her parents on account of being known by them as a good guy and yet looks at her as if _she_ is the gift to _him_.

She thinks of her parents as well, hopelessly and passionately loving each other. Cherish it, Neal told her. But could she do one better? Could she emulate it?

Months ago she wouldn't even have considered it given a lifetime of experiences to the contrary and given how Neal broke her heart and her trust right along with it. But now that she knows why he did it, and now that she finds herself in a new life with everything changed and maybe even her heart... What now?

Maybe, she thinks. Maybe.

"Okay," she says softly, as his kiss moves to her neck and settles there. "I'll stay a little while longer."

II

"Henry is trying to evaluate Emma's choices for true love," Snow says and David lifts his head from her stomach and the path of kisses he's been making there to look at her.

"Henry?" he repeats, resting his chin on her hip as he contemplates that. He keeps his hand on the inside of her thigh though, drawing circles on her skin with his thumb.

"Mmm," she confirms, closing her eyes at his touch. "I think he wants to see her happy."

"So do I," he says softly. "I just don't want to see her get hurt."

"Charming," she says fondly, drawing her fingers through his hair. "Do you remember how we first met?"

"Of course," he says, smiling at the memory. Even if he didn't have a permanent reminder of it in his scar, he is not likely to forget looking at her face for the first time. Even if it was followed by being knocked out seconds later.

"Do you remember after? When we met again? When I lied to you and told you I didn't love you?" she says, her voice catching a little.

Even in the dark, he can see the regret and sadness on her face at the memory of that. She told him later how much it broke her heart having to do it, and he hated King George for it. And now that he knows George also cursed her to never to bear children – something she wanted so much – he hates the man even more. Ruth died to break that curse and to give them both Emma.

And now King George is here in Storybrooke. That is not a good thing.

"I remember," he says reluctantly, kissing her skin softly.

"That hurt," she says and he nods. It did. It hurt more than any physical wound he's ever had, hurt so much he didn't think anything could hurt more than that – until he had to give his daughter up. "But Charming?"

"Mmm?" he murmurs softly, lowering his head to kiss the inside of her thigh and flick his tongue across her skin. She draws a sharp breath at that and he supposes the mission of distracting her from painful memories is at least partly successful.

" _This_ is worth all the hurt," she says intently and he looks up to meet her gaze again. The expression on her face makes his breath catch. It is still a wonder to him that she loves him just as much as he loves her.

"Yes," he agrees as she cups his face, pulling him up to meet her demanding kiss. Her body presses against his as he presses her into the mattress, the sensation of skin to skin making him sigh into her mouth.

Yes. Oh yes. Snow in his life, and in his arms, and in his bed is definitely worth all the pain. And he does get her point, that Emma may find something worth being hurt for. He can concede that point.

Doesn't mean he still won't punch out anyone who hurts her, of course – what else is a father to do?


	70. Chapter Sixty-Nine

II

**Chapter Sixty-Nine**

II

Present day

II

Emma tip-toes into the darkness of the Nolan-come-Charming home and tries not to trip over things and thus possibly waking up the other inhabitants. She really didn't mean to stay so late. She really, really didn't, but Graham has very persuasive hands and a very persuasive tongue, as it turns out.

She smiles at the thought in the dark and then walks smack into a hard yet soft surface that groans at the contact. She knows that voice.

"David?" she whispers, stepping back. It is David, even if he's dressed in what looks like one of Mary Margaret's robes. Right. She's definitely not going to think about what that might mean or remember that thing she walked in on that never happened. Nope.

"Mmm," David says, putting his hands on her shoulders for a moment and rubbing her arms lightly. "Hey."

"Hey," she agrees. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"No," he simply says and the thought that he may have stayed up all evening makes her feel awkward and warm at the same time.

"Hey," Mary Margaret says as well, appearing behind David in one of his shirts. "Did you have a good time?"

"Uh... Yeah," Emma manages. She almost automatically asks if they had a good time as well before realizing that's a question she doesn't want the answer to. "Did Henry fall asleep all right?"

"Out like a light," Mary Margaret says smiling and Emma smiles back. Their son. What a strange, wonderful thing that is.

"Want some hot cocoa before you go to bed?" David asks, putting a hand around Mary Margaret as she leans against him. They both look hopefully at Emma, almost radiantly so in fact. They've just spent a whole day with her earlier and yet now they want to drink hot cocoa with her rather than sleep despite probably needing it. And somehow, she wants exactly the same.

"Yeah," she says. "I would like that."

II

"Magic," Tamara says darkly. The very word to her seems to reek. But then, she's been taught to dislike that word ever since she was born. "It always has a price, doesn't it? And it always makes someone else pay for it too."

Mr. Gold doesn't answer her, merely makes an inarticulate noise. He'll live, of course. He's no good to her dead, and she does need him. What little she has managed to get out of him has confirmed that. He isn't the most talkative of men, it seems, if a man is even what he is.

"I want to tell you a story," she goes on. It's not really for him, of course. It's to herself. It's the story she's heard so many times now she knows it by heart, but still recites it as part of her reason for doing this. "There was a young boy called Owen once. He was just a boy going camping with his father in the forest. Then one morning the forest turned into a town."

Mr. Gold makes a noise again. She supposes he may know what is coming.

"Storybrooke," she says darkly. "That was the town's name. It ripped the poor boy's father apart as it sprung up around them. Magic, you know. The boy ran. He ran for a long time. When he finally stopped, he could never find that town again."

"Not... meant... to be found," Mr. Gold says. He tries to focus on her, but she knows the drugs in his system make it hard to. She's tried not to overdo the dose, though. He is after all Neal's father. She won't hurt him more than necessary, but she will do what is necessary. She always has.

She was raised to.

"But now we can find it," she says and leans over him. "Your son went there. I knew he would ever since he got that postcard from Storybrooke. I saw it. 'Broken', it said. I knew he would, and then we could find it again."

"And the boy is now a man and isn't running anymore," Owen says and steps into the faint light from the windows and the dawn outside. She didn't even hear him come in. "Is this him?"

"This is Neal's father," she confirms. "He came from Storybrooke."

"And you're sure he has magic?"

She nods emphatically. It is why she drugged him, after all. "Neal talks about it in his sleep. Sounds like a scared little boy when he does. He has nightmares about this man."

Owen looks at her strangely. "Are you growing soft on Neal? I thought you only got close to him because it was necessary."

"I did," she says as dismissively as she can. "But he has paid the price for magic too."

"We still have to make sure the rest of us don't pay it also," Owen reminds her. His eyes close and she knows he is imagining his father again. He's told her about that image many times, but for all the horror of it he refuses to let it go. It is his cause, his mantra, his justification.

She has her own.

"Yes," she agrees, lacing her fingers in his. "They brought a whole world with them and made a town in our world with magic. They killed your father doing it. Who knows what else they might do and what price we'll have to pay for it?"

II

Henry is starting to enjoy mornings even more than he normally does.

There is dad's pancakes and mom's soft fussing over them both, as there has always been in the mornings. But now there is also Emma and her cereal, and mom and dad fussing over Emma just as much as him.

It's like a proper family. His family.

"I was thinking you could come with me today," Emma says hesitantly after exchange a look with mom and dad, and Henry looks up at her happily. "I'm going to have lunch with Neal."

"Okay," Henry says. Mom and dad are looking at him intently, he notices, even if they're trying to hide it. "Is he my birth father then?"

Mom splutters and dad chokes on a pancake while Emma pauses with a spoon full of milk and cereal on its way to her mouth. Then she puts the spoon down and looks at him properly

"What makes you say that?" Emma asks carefully.

"You said my dad lived in New York and you asked me if I wanted to meet him," Henry explains. "Then he comes back to Storybrooke with us even though he doesn't want to see his dad. I thought maybe he was your true love but I'm still evaluating that. You could just tell me if he was my birth father you know. You don't have to hide it."

Emma nods slowly, looking almost amused for a moment. "Yeah, okay. Look, Henry..."

"He is," David breaks in, looking at Emma with soft eyes. "Emma just wanted to tell us before she told you."

Henry considers that. It makes sense and he doesn't want to think that Emma would ever keep a secret from him or lie to him. She's his mom (too). Moms shouldn't lie.

"Henry," his other mom says and puts a hand on his head. "Neal would like to get to know you. You don't have to meet him if you don't want to."

"Will you still be my mom and dad?" he asks, looking up at dad as well.

"Of course!" dad says. He kneels down to look at Henry. "We're _always_ going to be your mom and dad, Henry. You know that."

Henry looks up at Emma, who nods as well after a moment. Perhaps one day she'll be ready to say it too. Henry hopes so, just as he hopes she might be ready to call mom and dad just that one day too. She'll be like his sister and mom in one go then.

"Okay," he says. "We can have lunch with Neal. Should I start calling Mr. Gold 'gramps' now then? I can't call dad 'gramps' because he's dad."

Dad chokes again, and mom pats him on the back. Her hand lingers after too, and she smiles at Henry.

"I think calling Gold 'gramps' can wait, Henry," mom says and Emma nods several times.

II

Regina knocks on the Charmings' door with as much calm detachment she can manage, something Henry ruins the moment he opens the door, spots her and hugs her happily. She can't not hug him back.

"Hey Henry," she says, ruffling his hair gently. "Is your mom and dad in?"

"My moms and dad are in," Henry confirms as he pulls back. As Regina looks up she can see Emma approach while Snow and Charming are doing the dishes together in the kitchen.

"Hey," Emma says. "Did you want to see David and Mary Margaret?"

"Yeah," Regina says. "But since you're here, could I have a moment with you first, please?"

"Sure," Emma agrees. She smiles down at Henry. "Henry, why don't you go help your parents?"

"Our," Henry corrects, and Emma's face is a curious mix of emotions. "See you, Regina."

With that he pads off with Emma looking after him almost like someone besotted. Then again, it is hard not to love someone as loving as Henry. Regina knows that well, and knows it does rather run in that family.

"You have magic," Regina says without preamble and Emma tears her gaze away from Henry.

"What?"

"You have magic. You've used it already, haven't you?"

"Yeah," Emma says. She closes her eyes for a moment, then opens them again as if what she sees in the dark isn't very pleasant. "I can't control it very well yet, though. It seems to happen when..."

"You're overcome by strong emotion?" Regina suggests and she can see by the look on Emma's face that she is right. "Magic is tied to emotion. It can be fueled by it or directed by it."

Emma seems to consider that. "Can it be controlled?"

"Yes," Regina tells her firmly. "I can teach you."

"You're willing to do that? Why?" Emma asks suspiciously.

"For them," Regina says simply, and Emma follows her gaze to see Charming blowing soap bubbles at Henry while Henry does the same to Snow and all three of them laugh happily.

Emma's face softens as she regards what is truly her family while Regina has a much slimmer claim on them. But it is still a claim. She was Snow's step-mother. They named Henry after her father. That must count for something; Regina intends it to count for something.

"For them," Emma agrees, her voice filled with the same steel Regina is used to hearing in Charming's voice.


	71. Chapter Seventy

II

**Chapter Seventy**

II

Present day

II

Snow can barely resist the urge to kiss Emma on the head too as she gives Henry a kiss, but she settles for smiling warmly at her daughter instead. Emma smiles back and gives David an affectionate smile too before vanishing out the door with their joint son.

What a strange and wonderful thing that is, Snow thinks. They're sharing a son with their daughter.

Regina is sitting at the kitchen counter sipping the tea David offered her, looking strangely thoughtful. Snow takes a seat next to her and accepts a cup of tea from David as well. That too is something strange and wonderful, to sit in peace with someone who spent so long trying to kill you.

"The funeral for my mother and father is tomorrow," Regina announces. Her voice is even, but Snow is watching her face and knows that is only a mask. Carefully, she puts her hand on Regina's arm and squeezes it lightly. For a moment, Regina looks down at the touch and her expression softens.

"We'll come, of course," Snow says before Regina can even ask. She gives David a look and he nods firmly.

"You don't have to," Regina says, still in that even voice. "My mother tried to kill you. I will understand if you want to stay away."

"She didn't succeed - thanks to you," David says and Snow looks at him. She can see the pain in his eyes at the memory. She can feel her own pain too. He was willing to die to have her live, and if he had that would have killed her as surely as any poison could. "And your father was only kind to us. Of course we'll come."

"Thank you," Regina says quietly. She drains her cup in one go and stands up. "I talked to Emma, by the way. She's willing to let me teach her magic."

"Thank you," Snow says sincerely. The thought of her daughter wielding something so powerful makes her terrified and strangely proud all at once. But if anyone knows the dangers of it and can help Emma steer clear, it is Regina. "We'll see you tomorrow then."

Regina nods, and walks out with the same sort of composure she always seems to have – except that her eyes are teary, but Snow doesn't comment on it. Not because she doesn't care – but because she does, and because she knows Regina.

As the door closes, David walks over, and wraps his arms around Snow from behind and rests his head on her shoulder.

"She's mellowed," he says softly.

"Who? Regina or Emma?"

He chuckles. "Point taken. But I was thinking of Regina."

"She has," Snow agrees and swallows a lump in her throat. Regina really has and she didn't even realize how much she wanted to see it until it happened. "Emma has too, though."

"Yeah, she has," he agrees, his voice softening. She can hear the happiness and longing in his tone also. He is happy they've started to gain ground with Emma, yet he longs for even more. He won't push it, though. That's not him. That's more like her, Snow has to admit to herself.

She leans back against him and he presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth. As always, it is a comfort just to know he is there.

"I've asked the dwarfs to be on the lookout for King George," he says after a moment. She turns around without breaking the embrace, looking at him with a smile. He frowns slightly. "What?"

"I asked Ruby to do the same," she confesses.

"Should have known," he says softly, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Should have," she agrees. He knows her, after all. He should know she will do anything to keep her family safe – just as he will.

He smiles at her as he leans forward and brushes his lips against hers. Softly at first, then more intently as she leans into it. When she tugs at his bottom lip, he groans and lifts her up on the kitchen counter. With the added height, she can slant her mouth across his and kiss him as possessively as she wants. He hums in appreciation of that, resting his hands on her neck and moving his fingers across her skin lightly.

"We have things to do today," he reminds her with regret in his voice as he breaks the kiss briefly.

"Mmhm," she agrees and draws her thumb across his cheekbone. "But..."

"But?" he echoes hopefully.

"Just but," she says. That will do as an excuse, she figures as she lets her head fall backwards slightly while he kisses her neck. It's not like they actually need one. They've always managed to steal moments together quite well without having any excuse at all – but the best reason in the world.

Love.

II

It's cold, Regina finds. Or maybe it's just her feeling it, like her very bones are ice now that she has stepped outside. The Charmings' home is warm in more than one way, and she has half a mind to want to step back inside. But she doesn't quite feel like she can just hang out there. Not yet anyway.

"Your Majesty," a voice says and she looks up to see Hook leaning against a tree. He is smiling, but she knows a mask when she sees one. His might be charm and smiles and an easy demeanor, but it is still a mask.

"Captain," she replies, since he seems to be going with titles. "What are you up to now?"

"Why must I be up to something?" he counters and she simply gives him a look. "All right, I heard Emma was back in town. I was hoping to get a word with the charming and fair princess."

"About?"

"Since when are you the Charmings' guardian?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "Rumor has it you were more akin to their mortal enemies in the Enchanted Forest."

"Things change," she says, and marvels at the fact that they actually have. "What do you want with her, Hook?"

"She was looking for Rumpelstiltskin's son," he says, the mask falling. "I got that much out of the sheriff eventually. I want to know if she found him."

"You're going to use the son for your revenge against Rumpelstiltskin?"

"No."

She raises the eyebrow this time. "Really?"

"I knew Bae a long time ago," Hook says and something wistful crosses his face. "He is Milah's son too. I will not use him against the crocodile."

She looks at him again, properly looks and sees something almost like a mirror in his eyes. "Finding a life seeking revenge rather empty these days, Hook?"

"Yes," he says simply and she nods. She knows. Oh, she knows. For all she made Snow White suffer, it never really changed anything. All the displaced anger only covered the wound. It didn't heal it. Revenge was just a distraction from the pain.

If Snow had lost her beloved Charming and cried bitter tears until she died of grief it still wouldn't have felt anything more than a passing joy and then... Then Regina would truly have nothing.

She isn't quite sure what she can have now yet, but she is beginning to think it might actually be something.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Hook suggests and she gives him a long, thoughtful look. Still no mask back on him. He can drop it when he wishes to then. Maybe she can too.

"You can buy your own," she says firmly. "But I will have a drink with you."

II

"Hey Neal," Henry says and Neal looks up from the table to see Henry and Emma standing a few feet away. He didn't even hear them enter the diner, his mind entirely elsewhere – on his missing father, in fact.

"Hey Henry," he replies. Emma is giving him a rather pointed look and he wonders if he's done anything wrong already. "Emma."

"I read about you in the book," Henry says as he sits down across from Neal. Emma slides in next to her son and looks so protective that Neal has a hard time not smiling. Emma as a mom. What a wonderful thing to see. "Should I call you Neal or Baelfire?"

"Neal is fine," he assures Henry. After such a long time, it feels strange to hear the name he was born with again. It almost doesn't feel like his anymore.

Henry nods. "I can't call you dad since dad is dad, so I'll just call you Neal for now."

Neal tries to keep his face neutral, feeling Emma look pointedly at him. Henry knows? No other explanation for what he just said comes readily to Neal's mind at least.

"Henry figured out you were his birth father," Emma says before Neal can speak.

Henry nods proudly. "I know you were waiting until you talked to mom and dad before telling me."

Emma gives that pointed glare again, and Neal realizes this must be the official version they're going with now and not the waiting-to-tell-Henry-to-protect-him that actually was the plan.

"Yeah," he says, folding his hands. "I know you have a mom and dad who love you very much, Henry. I'm very happy about that. I was just hoping to get to know you."

"I have Emma and mom. I can have Neal and dad too," Henry says firmly, as if he's thought about it and made a decision.

"Yeah, you can," Emma agrees and Henry looks up at her with so much love Neal feels a little staggered watching it. This is what it's like to have a family, he faintly remembers. So much love you can see it. He had that all too briefly and some days it feels like he didn't have it at all.

"If you want that, you can," Neal chimes in. "It's nice to meet you, Henry. I'm sorry it took so long."

"That's okay," Henry says smilingly. "It wasn't your fault."

Emma looks down and Neal thinks about leaving her, about what he's learned about her life since and most of all about his father who set all this in motion in the first place.

"It was somewhat my fault," Neal corrects and looks at Emma. Her gaze is even as she meets his, but he can see the hurt hiding behind the hard stare. "I hope I can make it up to you one day."

"Okay," Henry says, while Emma says nothing.

Maybe he can't truly make up for it, Neal knows – certain hurts cannot be truly healed, as he thinks is the case with his father. But he can try to. He has the best reason in the world to, after all.

Love.


	72. Chapter Seventy-One

II

**Chapter Seventy-One**

II

Present day

II

This has gone relatively well, Emma has to admit. Neal and Henry are chatting amicably enough and Neal hasn't made any attempts to push it too much. She's glad for that. Not for herself mainly, but for David and Mary Margaret who have raised Henry all his life and are his parents. They're just also his grandparents. And her parents, but thinking too much about the logistics of the family tree just gives her a headache. She prefers to just feel it instead, and she smiles faintly at the memory of their family day.

Until it was interrupted, at least. Seems to be their lives of late. Good times and then interruptions. It would be really, really nice to have some peace and quiet and time to get to know her parents and her son (and their son) properly.

Now that she's wished for peace and quiet she's probably ensured they won't get it, she thinks and takes another sip of coffee.

As Henry disappears to get more fries, Neal leans over and lowers his voice.

"My father is missing," he says shortly. She looks up in surprise. That really wasn't the news she was expecting.

"Are you sure?"

"No sign of him since we left him in New York."

"Oh," Emma says. "You could maybe ask Belle, his... Something, maybe she's seen him."

"She hasn't," Neal replies and she can see the worry starting to slip through his calm demeanor. Neal knows Belle as well? She has half a mind to ask how that happened. "I'm going to go to New York for a few days and see if I can find him."

"Sure," Emma says lightly. Gold missing? That can't bode well, unless he's just off sulking somewhere which wouldn't bother her one bit. When she thinks about what he did to her parents, she gets the urge to punch him in the face again.

(And what that took from her in return, she tries very hard not to think about. It won't change anything, after all. She'll always have lost 28 years with them. She'll never be their child, not in the way Henry is. But she can be their daughter – if she wants to.)

"You're going?" Henry asks Neal, appearing with enough fries for a small army and clearly having overheard the last part of the conversation.

"Just for a few days," Neal says. He looks at Henry fondly, and it makes his whole face light up. She really wishes she didn't see that. It makes it much harder to be indifferent to him. "I'll be back soon."

"Okay," Henry. He offers the plate of fries and Neal accepts with a smile. "Emma, can we follow him to the town line and see him off? Like a tiny adventure?"

"Sure, kid," she says and Henry's smile lights up the whole room.

II

In his car, George watches Emma and Henry get into her yellow bug and follow the car of the man George has learned is called Neal Cassidy. A stranger in town, but clearly not a stranger to everyone. (It is a good thing some of his former guards are in this town and are still loyal to him, George reflects. It makes getting information on this world and the people in town so much easier.)

He lets them drive ahead before following carefully. He hasn't been watching from the shadows these last few days to be reckless now. No. He will wait for his opportunity. Plus, driving is quite different to riding and he hasn't quite mastered it fully yet, as much as he hates admitting it. Carriages are very strange in this world, and reins are far easier to control than steering wheels in his opinion.

They're heading towards the town limit, George realizes after a while. Those who weren't cursed can cross it, but anyone else loses their true memories, he's learned.

Emma can clearly cross it, and Henry too it seems. But the shepherd and Snow White? They couldn't. They'd be helpless on the other side unless they were willing to lose themselves, and that would be a win too.

George smiles darkly as he watches Emma and Henry get out of the car and wave Neal Cassidy off. Perhaps the time has come to strike.

Yes, he decides, watching the two children David should never have had.

It has.

II

Neal has vanished out of sight before Emma turns to look at Henry. He is sad, she notices, but not unduly so. He may be open to getting to know Neal, but Neal is still a stranger. The slightly jealous part of her is glad, even if the rest of her is firmly telling her off for even feeling it.

"I hope he finds his dad," Henry says and she realizes Henry overheard the whole conversation at the table. She has to remember to be careful what she says around him. "It's nice to have a dad."

How to explain to a ten-year-old that not all dads live up to what a dad should be, Emma wonders. But of course, all Henry has to model dads on is David and David... David is the kind of dad she would have liked to have.

Should have had, her mind reminds her and she closes her eyes briefly. He _is_ her dad.

"What do you say we call up your mom and dad and see if we can have a family evening tonight?" she suggests.

"Our mom and dad," Henry corrects automatically. He looks up at her. "They are your mom and dad too."

"Right," she says, avoiding using those words out loud.

"Or we could plan something and then surprise them!" Henry goes on happily, clearly warming to the idea.

"No!" Emma exclaims, thinking of the last time she surprised her parents. No no no. That's the sort of surprise she has no desire to repeat. Really, given how David looks at Mary Margaret and Mary Margaret looks at David, those two alone should never be interrupted without advance warning on penalty of traumatic images even tequila can't kill. She's learned that now.

Maybe it isn't all that odd, Emma reflects. The curse apparently trapped everyone for 28 years in the same stage, meaning David and Mary Margaret were essentially trapped as newlyweds for 28 years. There are worse ways to be trapped, probably – like pregnant or something.

Henry looks curiously at her as if he's waiting for an explanation for her outburst. Since that explanation would involve birds and bees and what true love likes to do besides kissing, Emma decides that one can wait and should be left to David and Mary Margaret.

(Though she wouldn't mind listening in on it just for the fun of it. And maybe to know what a conversation like that between parent and child might look like.)

"How about we call them first and ask them to meet us outside for a surprise?" she amends quickly and Henry nods eagerly. "So what do you want to..."

She trails off as she sees the car come at her from the corner of her eye. Instinctively, she shields Henry with her own body as she attempts to dive them both out of harm's way.

The car grazes her and she and Henry both fall across the line and towards the hard road. Emma has a moment to hear Henry whimper and feel her heart contract painfully at it. Then her head slams into the asphalt and everything goes black.

II

"So what do you think?" Snow asks, squeezing his hand. He draws his thumb across hers in response, but he doesn't comment right away. Instead, he tilts his head and looks again at the house before them.

"I don't know, the yard's kinda small," he comments. When she looks at him incredulously, he returns the gaze. "I grew up on a farm! I like space."

"It has space," Snow counters patiently. "Look, it has several bedrooms and two bathrooms. It has a back garden. I like this one. We could raise a family here."

"We are raising a family where we live now," he says and thinks of Henry and Emma both under their roof. It makes him happy.

"I know," she agrees softly, smiling at him as they both think of their beloved family. "But we hardly have enough space as it is now that Emma moved in and if our family grows even more..."

"What?" he says. She bites her lip and he stares at her. "Are you...? What?"

"Charming..." she starts, then trails off as his phone rings. He picks it up with an apologetic smile, noticing from the contact picture that it's Emma calling.

"Hey Emma," he says brightly. "What size do you think a yard should be?"

Snow rolls her eyes slightly at that comment and he smiles at her.

"No. Not Emma," the voice on the other end says and David's heart falls into what feels like an abyss. He knows that voice. "Hello, _son_."

"George," David hisses and Snow looks up in alarm. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I think that if you love your family, you will bring your wife to the town limit right now. Just the two of you - unless you want to see your daughter or adopted son dead when you arrive."

"You..." David starts, but the line goes dead. He stares down at the phone, not sure if it's anger or fear that is making his head pound the most. George. George calling from Emma's phone.

"David?!" Snow says. Her eyes are wide as she stares at him, reading his face and knowing it is not good.

"George has Emma and Henry," David tells her. Her lips part soundlessly and she just stares at him for a moment. Then her jaw tightens and her fingers dig into his skin as they're still holding hands. He can feel the determination radiate from her and into him.

"Then we get them back," she says in a hard voice and he nods.

II

Henry isn't sure he likes adventures that much after all. Not when they hurt Emma. Not when some bad guy has tied his hands and Emma's hands and is pointing a gun at them both. Not when Emma isn't waking up.

No. Henry doesn't like these sort of adventures at all.

"You're a villain," he tells the man angrily.

"I'm the villain?" the man repeats. He looks angry at that. "The man calling himself your father once called himself my son too. He failed me. He abandoned me just to be with that silly girl who was nothing more than an outlaw. His true love over his kingdom. Snow White over me."

"Don't talk about mom like that!" Henry says. He wishes he had dad's sword so he could defend mom as dad would have.

"I will do far more than talk," the man goes on. Henry thinks of mom and dad injured, and looks at Emma already hurt. He really wishes he had dad's sword.

"Good always wins. You're going to lose," he says instead.

"I've already won," the man says as Henry sees dad's truck come barreling down the road at great speed, coming to an abrupt halt just before the town line. Mom and dad climb out, both with faces like stone.

Mom and dad can be a little scary sometimes, Henry thinks. But mom does give him an attempt at a reassuring smile as they seem to take in the scene – him kneeling over Emma, Emma passed out, the man with his gun and the town line between mom and dad and the rest of them.

"Let them go," dad says angrily, almost stepping over the line before mom puts a hand on his arm to hold him back. "Your quarrel is with me."

"They are you," the man counters. "You define yourself by your family and your love for Snow White. So my quarrel with you is with them. But I am not an unreasonable man. You can have a choice."

"What choice?" dad asks. His fists are balled and he stares at the line in frustration.

"You can have one of your children," the man says and his smile isn't very pleasant at all. "Emma or Henry. Which one would you rather see live?"

Adventures, Henry thinks and tries to shield Emma as much as he can. If they are all like this, he wishes he had never ever wanted one.


	73. Chapter Seventy-Two

II

**Chapter Seventy-Two**

II

Present day

II

The town line, Snow tries to remember. The town line is there and if they cross it, they'll forget who they are. They'll lose Emma again. She has to remember that.

But she wants to launch herself across it, throw herself at King George and claw at him. He's threatening her children. Her _children_. She finally has them both, and she's not going to give up either of them.

"So this is your choice," King George says. "Emma or Henry."

"No," David says angrily. "You see everything as a choice because you make it so. You've always done it from the moment you told me I could pretend to be your son or you would kill my mother. You forced me to choose between Snow and your kingdom. You could have accepted that I love her. We could have found another way to save the kingdom. _You_ made it a choice between her and you."

"One you made," George says darkly and looks at Snow. She stares back at him. "Make it again. Henry, or Emma? Choose which one will live or I will kill them both."

"Henry," Emma murmurs and Snow looks over to her daughter. Emma is awake, looking dazed but her eyes are focused on them. She must have heard George's ultimatum. "Save Henry."

"No!" Henry protests and Snow wants to cry over how willing they all are to die for each other. They should be living for each other. "They just found you. They can't lose you now!"

"Mom. Dad. _Please_ ," Emma says, desperation in every word. "Save Henry. Please."

Mom. Dad. The words register in Snow's mind and she almost staggers. Emma called them mom and dad. Emma. Her daughter. She has hoped they would hear those words from Emma one day of course, but not under circumstances like these.

It still makes her want to cry to hear those words.

"Emma..." David says thickly. She knows he couldn't give up Emma for Henry any more than she could. They couldn't give up Henry for Emma either. They _can't_.

"George!" she calls out. He fixes his gaze on her and she can see the anger in his eyes. "I drew Charming away from your kingdom. I was the one who ruined it for you. Here I am. You know what it will do to him to lose me."

"Snow..." David says. She doesn't look at him, she can't look at him or she'll break down. She knows what it would do to him to lose her all too well, because it would do the same to her. But he can live on to keep Henry and Emma safe. Nothing matters more than them. They're her children. His children too. He'll live for them as she would.

"I know," George says. He moves the gun from Henry and Emma on the ground and fixes it on her. "Perhaps you are right."

She knows the shot is coming and braces herself. To keep her family safe, she will even welcome it.

Unfortunately, Charming can see it coming too. He steps in front of her and the bullet slams into his shoulder instead of her. He cries out sharply, falling forward and to the ground.

Beyond the town line.

II

Emma tries to reach for her magic as she has several times now, but finds nothing there. Again. She can see her father stagger to his feet, see Mary Margaret and Henry call out and George smile. Screw restraints, she figures.

She throws herself at him as he whips the gun around and slams it into her head. It hurts, but she's pretty sure so does the knee she lifts up and drives into his crotch before she falls backwards. He groans, but doesn't let go of the gun.

"Emma!" Mary Margaret screams. She's kneeling and pulling David towards her and back over the line without crossing it herself. He looks utterly confused and stares at both Emma and George as if they're complete strangers.

George has the gun squarely fixated on Emma and she stares him down.

"If you're going to do it, do it," she says, as Henry cries out again. It will keep him safe, that's the main thing. She can hear another noise too, a roaring noise that is vaguely familiar. A motorcycle?

George looks up just as the motorcycle slams into him and sends the gun flying. It's August, Emma realizes. It's August, and the bike with him on it falls over from the impact of hitting George as Emma watches. George is whimpering on the ground, while the gun has flown beyond the line. Mary Margaret picks it up and aims it squarely at George.

"Are you all right?" August calls over to Emma. He staggers to his feet, limping slightly. He must have kept on following her or her parents, she realizes, despite being told off. Normally she would want to shout at him for that, but now she has half a mind to kiss him.

Just half a mind, though. The rest of it is still fairly angry about everything.

"Get Henry," she mutters, getting to her feet. She feels dizzy as she staggers towards the town line, but she does manage to cross it. The moment she is across, she reaches for her magic again and finds it.

The ropes fall from her hands as she rips them apart with magic. August is helping Henry across the line and untying him while Henry stares up in wonder. David is clutching his shoulder with blood seeping through, and Emma kneels down.

"Who are you?" he asks, staring at her.

"I'm..." she starts and several words come to her. Daughter. Family. Friend. But he doesn't know that right now. She just found him and now he seems lost again. "I'm Emma."

She hasn't tried to heal with magic before, but she puts her hand on his wound as he gasps in pain and tries to think of how much she wants him to be whole. How much she wants him to be unhurt, how much she cares about him, how much she...

Love, she thinks and the wound heals under her hand.

"How did you do that?" he says. He stares up at her in wonder, then looks up at Mary Margaret who still has the gun firmly fixed on George. "Mary Margaret?"

II

The wrong name, Snow thinks distantly. David has forgotten then. He won't know who he truly is, who she is, who Emma is. George has taken his true life away from David, and her true love away from her.

"He has to die, David," she says tonelessly.

"What?" Emma says. "Mary Margaret, you can't kill him. We'll lock him up, we'll..."

"He'll always be a danger to us," Snow goes on. She remembers the curse he inflicted on her, the curse Ruth died to remove. He took David's heart. He threatened to kill Henry and Emma, and caused David to lose his memories.

So much harm done to her family. First Regina, then Rumpelstiltskin and his curse, then Cora and now George. Enough. Enough.

"Mary Margaret?" David asks. Even as he looks confused, he's getting to his feet and holding out a hand. "I don't know what is going on, but this isn't you."

"You don't know me," she says sadly. He doesn't anymore. Once he knew her better than anyone, maybe even better than she knew herself.

"I do," Emma breaks in. "I know we haven't spent much time together, but I know you. David is right. This isn't you. This would be killing for revenge, Mary Margaret."

"Mom, _please_ ," Henry says. He looks scared – scared of her. It is that more than the words that finally seem to register with her and she drops the gun as if she's been burned. She puts her head between her arms and sinks down while David carefully puts his arms around her.

Revenge, she thinks distantly. That's how George started. That's how Regina started. She almost... No. This isn't her. She can't let this be her.

"Mary Margaret," David says again, and for a name she had for 28 years, right now it makes her want to scream. If he's trying to reassure herself or him, she doesn't know. Maybe both.

"August, tie the asshole up and we'll bring him to one of Graham's cells," Emma orders but her voice seems distant to Snow. All the noises do, even David's breathing as he holds her close. It isn't much comfort either, because this isn't Charming. This is David Nolan clearly trying his best despite being utterly confused, but this isn't Charming.

She closes her eyes as she hears Emma take charge and call Graham and Regina and a few others. Like father, like daughter – at least what the father was like, Snow remembers and her heart aches. She can see August restrain a still dazed George as well, and she half wants to reach for the gun again.

"Mom?" Henry asks. He sits down next to her. He looks as if he's trying to be brave and she wishes she could tell him there is nothing to be afraid of. "Dad?"

"Henry," David says, putting an arm around their son. So he remembers that much at least. He must remember their marriage as well then. That is something. That is a start, maybe.

"Dad's just forgotten a few things," she tells Henry, trying to make it sound reassuring. "He'll remember again."

"What have I forgotten?" David asks. "I remember you, I remember Henry, I... I don't remember how we get here."

"Don't worry about it," Emma cuts in, looking up from her phone. "Mary Margaret, Graham will be here soon."

Memories, Snow thinks suddenly. She forgot Charming once, and he brought it back with true love's kiss – eventually. She just had to be open to love, and David Nolan is that. He loves Mary Margaret Nolan if nothing else. Maybe that's enough.

"David?" she asks and he looks at her. "Do you love me?"

"Of course," he says and looks confused. "We're married. Mary Margaret, what is going on? Who was the man with the gun? Why are we out here?"

"Shhh," she says softly, putting a finger against his lips. "Don't think about that right now. Just think about how much you love me. Can you do that?"

"Of course," he says, looking at her. "Mary Margaret, I love you, I've always..."

She kisses him. His lips are soft and yielding under hers, but after a moment he kisses her gently back.

"Charming?" she murmurs against his lips hopefully .

"What?" he says and she pulls back to see blue eyes staring at her in confusion. "Mary Margaret, what is going on?"

Mary Margaret, not Snow. True love's kiss didn't work, she realizes, and her heart breaks all over again.


	74. Chapter Seventy-Three

II

**Chapter Seventy-Three**

II

Present day

II

In the end, Graham insists on them all going to the hospital while he locks George up (and looks ready to throw away the key). The dwarfs and Ruby and Regina show up as well, and Emma lets herself be worried about and even hugged for a while, but eventually she has enough and slips away. She walks blindly for a while before she finds a dark room with a couch to slump down on.

Her mind seems to be screaming at her, but it's all a roar of noises that she can't distinguish. So she just sits in the dark and stares dully ahead until she hears more than sees someone else enter.

Regina comes to sit next to her on the couch, saying nothing. Her presence is still strangely comforting.

"Magic didn't work across the town line," Emma says dully. "George knew that, didn't he? Since he took me across it. He's seen me use magic before."

"It is possible Cora discovered magic didn't work outside of Storybrooke," Regina muses. "She may have told him. I don't know. Maybe he also wanted to lure your parents across it."

Emma closes her eyes for a moment. "I almost let Mary Margaret kill him. _I_ wanted to kill him. I was so..."

"Angry?" Regina supplies, but her tone of voice isn't judging. It's understanding. "Full of rage? Take my word for it, Miss Swan – letting those emotions guide you will not help you."

All Emma can do is nod. She hugs her knees up to her chest, longing for David or Mary Margaret to sit next to her and reassure her. She's grown used to it. They've been here for her so much the last few weeks. But they can't right now. She'll have to reassure Mary Margaret and be the strong one for a while.

She's just so tired of it, and she got used to not having to be it all the time.

"I healed him," she says after a moment. "David got shot and I healed him."

"You're learning to control your magic," Regina comments. She sounds almost impressed.

"Not really," Emma replies. "I just thought about... Stuff, and then I just seemed to do it."

"Love," Regina says softly. "You thought about love, didn't you? You're a product of true love. Your magic is too."

Emma doesn't answer. She's not sure what to even say. She just sits in the dark and breathes, and Regina sits right with her.

II

"He's physically fine," Dr. Whale tells Snow and she nods dully. She could tell that herself, and Emma did heal him after all. "His memory loss isn't tied to anything medical."

"I know," she says. David is looking at her, but she avoids meeting his gaze. She can't look into his eyes right now. She can't. She'll want to see something he can't give her anymore.

"I will work on a cure," the Blue Fairy says, standing next to Dr. Whale. "I may be able to use a few ingredients from those unaffected by the curse to make a potion. Pinocchio has already volunteered to help."

"Thank you," Snow says, but she can't quite summon any enthusiasm right now. She feels too tired and longs for nothing more than to bury herself in Charming's embrace. "Can I take him home?"

"You can take him home," Dr. Whale says hesitantly. "Maybe being in a familiar environment will help. But I could keep him here at the hospital indefinitely and it may be better if..."

"No," she says firmly, her voice regaining some strength. If David had no memories at all, that might be a different story. But he does remember her and Henry, and keeping him in hospital away from people he remembers and loves seems cruel. She can't do that to him. She does love David Nolan too, after all. She spent 28 years loving him as Mary Margaret. "I'm going to take him home."

Across the room, David looks hopefully at her as he catches the last part, and she almost staggers when she meets his gaze for a moment.

"Just give me a few minutes," she tells Dr. Whale and bolts out the door before he can answer. She can hear David call after her, but she continues down the hallway until her legs can't carry her anymore. She slumps down and sits on the floor while trying to focus on simply breathing.

She aches for Charming so much it hurts. He's always been the one with the faith and the hope, and without him it feels so hard to hold onto to them. Yet she has to. For Henry, who'll want his father back, and for Emma, who just found her father again and can't lose him now. And also for herself, who wants her true love truly with her.

Charming, she thinks and feels the need for him like pain. _Charming._

"I'm sorry," she hears a voice say and looks up to see Pinocchio, or August as he may prefer to be called.

"You were following us?" she asks.

"I promised to protect her and I failed. I wasn't selfless, brave and true. I left her."

The wardrobe, Snow thinks and the familiar pain grabs her heart. She could have gone with Emma. She could have raised her. She almost wishes she didn't know that had been an option. And yet, change what happened and she wouldn't have her son.

"I was trying to redeem myself," August goes on. "I thought if I did one truly selfless, brave and true thing I wouldn't keep turning into wood. But my leg is still wooden."

"I don't think that's how you do it," Snow says and thinks of Regina and something akin to redemption. "You can't make up for the past with one selfless act. Maybe you make up for it by making the future better. Maybe if you're selfless, brave and true in everything you do now, then you'll get your second chance."

"I don't even have the courage to face my father," August says bitterly. "He'll be so disappointed to see the man I became."

"He would love you," Snow says softly and finds her own courage. "That's what parents do. Be brave, August."

Be brave, Snow, she thinks. Everything Charming was to her she'll now have to be for him until she can bring him back. She will bring him back.

They always find each other, after all. Always. She's not going to fail that now.

With that, she gets to her feet and goes to find her own children so that she can be brave for them.

II

Emma (with Regina trailing behind her) finds Henry sitting with Ruby and the dwarfs. The moment he sees her, he runs into her arms and clings to her.

"It's going to be all right," she whispers, even if she isn't sure it will be.

"You broke the curse," Henry says eagerly. "You can make him remember. You made him remember before."

"She may," Regina offers, coming into the room as well. Ruby and the dwarfs look at her hopefully. "She has magic."

"I know she will," Henry says hopefully. "She broke the curse. She saved you all."

"Henry, I..." Emma starts.

"You did," Mary Margaret says and Emma looks up to see her mother entering the room. There is something new in her expression and her posture, something determined and strong. She looks as if she would take on an army of dragons and not be the least bit afraid.

This is Snow White, Emma thinks and feels a little dizzy. This is also who her mother is.

Henry leaps into Mary Margaret's arms and Mary Margaret closes her eyes as she hugs him back.

"It's going to be all right, Henry," Mary Margaret whispers, but coming from her it sounds like a promise more than simple reassurance. "We're going to take dad home and he's going to remember again. It may take some time, but he will. Can you help me with that, Henry?"

Henry pulls back and nods eagerly.

"I can leave," Emma offers. "David doesn't remember me, I can stay at Granny's while..."

"No," Mary Margaret says firmly "We started getting our memories back before you broke the curse. You'll help him, Emma. I know you will. Please stay."

"Of course," Emma says, thinking of David. Her father. She was just getting used to him looking at her as if she was dearer than anything else in the world and the thought of never seeing that again feels painful beyond belief.

"I thought of a name," Henry says and they all look at him. "Operation Elephant."

"Why elephant?" Emma asks, and Henry and Mary Margaret both look at her. It's always been easy to see David in Henry, but now Emma finds herself seeing Mary Margaret in Henry too, and so much it almost throws her.

"Elephants never forget," Henry says simply and Mary Margaret nods.

II

He's forgotten something, David knows. He can tell. Not just from what they're all telling him. Not just from how Mary Margaret looks devastated and can't meet his eyes. Not just from how there are new people in his life who seem to know him while he doesn't know them.

He can feel it too. It's something nagging at his mind, almost screaming at him, but muffled. He can't hear it. He just knows it's trapped in there.

"Dad!" Henry calls and bolts into the room. David lifts his son up and hugs him while he lifts his gaze to the door and sees Mary Margaret standing there. She looks... different. He can't quite put it to words, but he can feel it.

"Hey, kid," he tells Henry softly. Henry just hugs him even closer.

"Dr. Whale has released you," Mary Margaret says and he looks up at her again. "We're going to take you home."

"Oh," he says. He stands up and lifts Henry up with him, holding out a hand to Mary Margaret. She looks at his palm for a moment while something akin to a shadow seems to cross her face. Then she takes his hand.

They always liked holding hands, he remembers. He isn't sure where the memory is coming from, but he knows it is true.

"Take me home, then," he says.

II

The knock on the door is insistent and Geppetto wonders if it's another dragon on the loose in Storybrooke from the urgency of it. He finally reaches the door and opens it to see a stranger looking back at him.

"Yes?" he asks.

"Papa?" the stranger says and Geppetto looks again. No, not a stranger. A grown man very different from a boy. Oh. _Oh._

"Pinocchio?" Geppetto breathes.

"Papa," Pinocchio confirms. He sounds on the verge of tears. "I'm sorry, papa. I failed you. I didn't want to see you until I had fixed everything."

"You're my son," Geppetto says slowly, and pulls his son into an embrace and thinks that he may never let go. "You can never fail me in that. Welcome home, my son."


	75. Chapter Seventy-Four

II

**Chapter Seventy-Four**

II

Present day

II

David and Henry are eating dinner in the kitchen, and the sight of it is making Snow's heart ache. It's such a normal scene, and yet Henry keeps asking David if he is any good with a sword and David indulges him mildly while probably thinking of their son's active imagination and nothing more.

It makes her heart ache. So do the curious glances David keeps throwing at Emma. Snow told him Emma is staying with them now and is Henry's birth mother, something he accepted with a slow nod. But David can clearly tell there is something more going on. Snow can see it in his eyes.

Charming would look like that too when he was suspecting something. She almost wishes David Nolan was much more different from Charming. Somehow, the similarities make it harder to deal with.

Henry keeps shooting encouraging smiles at her. He's clearly doing his best for Operation Elephant, but he is still a kid and he's been through a lot lately. With that thought, she picks up her phone and walks out of earshot to make a call.

When she returns a few minutes later, Emma is just hanging up her phone as well, while David and Henry are doing the dishes together.

"I arranged for Henry to see Dr. Hopper tomorrow. After everything that has happened, I think he needs it," Snow says. David is laughing softly at Henry's story about fighting a dragon, not knowing it's actually his own story retold.

She swallows the lump in her throat. She is going to get him back. She _is_. For herself, for Henry, and for Emma.

"Yeah," Emma says slowly. "I told Neal about magic not working outside of Storybrooke. Maybe that's why Gold is missing – he can't manage without magic."

Snow just nods. She can't really think about Gold right now. It's probably important, but she just can't.

"I miss him," Emma says abruptly, then bites down on her lip as if she realizes what she's just said. "I mean, I know he's not gone but... I miss him."

"I know," Snow says softly, putting her arm around Emma. Carefully, Emma lowers her head against Snow's shoulder and they stand like that for several minutes.

II

"Hello, George," Regina says as she appears (as if by magic, and in fact by magic) in the middle the sheriff's station, and George looks up from the cot in the cell. Graham isn't here, as she knew he wouldn't be, having waited until she saw him leave.

"I wasn't expecting to see you," George says. He gives her a thoughtful look. "You've changed since last we met."

"You haven't," she observes. "Still clinging to your revenge, I see."

"I will see him and his family suffer," George says and it's like looking at a mirror to her past. She keeps her smile, though. "He is nothing more than a shepherd and yet people still look to him as a prince."

"He married a princess," Regina says. "I think that takes care of the semantics, don't you?"

"Why are you here, Regina?"

She leans forward with her arm through the bars, grabbing his chin in her hand and drawing his face closer to hers. "They'll just lock you up for this. That's how they are. Good. Forgiving. And you'll be looking for another chance to harm them. I know you. I know what you are."

"What do you care? You have no love for the shepherd or his family!" George protests.

"Actually..." she says and her smile is genuine this time, "I do care."

She does have love too, she doesn't say, but she does know. Yes. She does have some love for Snow White and therefore the shepherd. She does love Henry and therefore the family.

George stares at her and she holds up her other hand. In it, a windmill spins slowly. "What is this?"

"Your new life," she says sweetly. "I went to the town line and drew from the magic there. I made you a curse identity. You won't remember your desire for revenge. You won't harm them again. You'll live out your life as Spencer, the local sheep farmer."

"Is this your idea of revenge?" he says and she shakes her head.

"Revenge would be killing you. No, this is my idea of justice."

"You can't do this!" George hisses. He closes his eyes but she forces them open with magic again.

"I can," Regina says and he stares at the windmill as if hypnotized. His face goes slack and the dark look in his eyes fades. "Spencer?"

"Yes," the man that once was King George says and Regina smiles.

II

Eventually, Snow manages to convince Henry to go to bed and she lets David be the one to tuck him in. It seems to be reassuring for them both. Emma takes a good deal more convincing (and a few vague threats), but she does give in eventually.

Emma hugs her softly first and Snow lets herself just be held for a minute. Emma might be her daughter, but she feels like something akin to a friend too. In another world, maybe that's what they would have been.

After Emma finally heads upstairs, Snow puts on Charming's shirt from last night and a pair of pajama pants and sits on the bed and waits. Soon enough, David walks downstairs and pauses slightly in the door of the bedroom to look at her.

Then he closes the door behind him and sits down next to her.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" he asks softly.

She breathes and he puts a hand hesitantly on her thigh. Charming would never hesitate in touching her, but he never had reason to think it unwelcome either, she knows.

"You lost part of your memory," she says. That much is certainly true.

"I gathered that," he says drily. It's again such a Charming thing to say that it throws her a little. "Mary Margaret, I haven't just forgotten the last few weeks, have I?"

"What makes you say that?" she whispers and he looks at her with blue, blue eyes.

"You're avoiding looking at me and when you do, you just look sad," he says, and she can hear the pain in his voice. He loves her, she remembers. David Nolan loves Mary Margaret and if he thinks something is wrong between them...

She embraces him almost violently, digging her fingers into his shoulder. After a moment, his hands come to rest at her back and move up and down slowly.

"What is it?" he whispers. "Mary Margaret, please tell me."

"You're not just David Nolan," she whispers back. "That's what you've forgotten."

"Who else would I be?" he asks in confusion and she closes her eyes. So much more, she wants to tell him. He was David and Charming both, as she is Snow and Mary Margaret both.

She breathes, and he pulls back slightly to cup her face. As she opens her eyes, she can see the confusion and fear and hurt in his eyes. He can clearly feel the distance that is suddenly between them. He just can't understand why.

"Henry was right," she tells him and he blinks. "We are fairytale characters. We have lived another life in another land. You've forgotten that."

"Oh," he says. He stares intently at her, and she tries a reassuring smile. "I was shot and then I wasn't. That was..."

"Magic," she says, lifting a hand to his shoulder where the bullet struck. There is no sign of it now. "I know this sounds unbelievable."

"I believe you," he says intently. His thumb strokes her cheek gently. "I will always believe you. It does sound crazy, but I don't care. You wouldn't lie to me. This other life... Were we together there?"

"Yes," she says and the relief on his face is so strong she draws a sharp breath. He must have feared that was why she was pulling away, she realizes. "We were married there too."

"Oh," he says again. He looks at her and she wishes she was better at hiding from him, but he always finds her - not just physically. He can still read her emotions like an open book. "You loved him."

"You," she corrects, but she can't quite put enough strength into it. He isn't quite Charming, after all. Close, but not quite. Like the echo of a sound rather than the sound itself.

"I'm sorry," he offers.

"Don't," she says, pushing her hands against his chest. "Don't apologize as if you've done something wrong. Don't... Don't..."

He catches her as she pretty much falls into him, lifting her onto his lap and securing one arm around her and resting the other on her neck. She puts her head against his shoulder as the tears finally start falling. He just holds her, offering comfort in his presence.

She isn't just crying for his lost memories, she knows. It's for 28 years lost with Emma too, it's for knowing the wardrobe took two, it's for Regina losing her mother, it's for almost losing Charming when she was poisoned, it's for learning her mother was killed – it's for everything.

She is going to cry for it now and then she is going to look to the future. She is going to have her husband back. She is going to make a family with her daughter and their joint son and... And, she thinks and remembers what she didn't get the chance to tell Charming. She will, though. They are going to have their happy ending.

She's ready to fight for it.

After a while, she has no more tears and she lifts her head to look at David again. He has cried too, she can see. She touches the streaks his tears have made down his face and very carefully she leans forward and kisses them.

"Mary Margaret," he says, his voice filled with longing.

"I'm going to find you," she tells him and something crosses his face. Maybe it's just vain, silly hope, but she thinks it is something akin to recognition. He is still in there. She wants to believe that. She chooses to believe that. "I will always find you."

She leans forward and kisses him gently. He kisses her back, running his hands slowly down her arms.

"Do you want me to sleep on the couch?" he whispers against her lips and she shakes her head.

"Just hold me," she whispers back, pressing another firm kiss to his lips. She takes his hand as she stands up, lifting the covers and then easing into bed underneath them. He follows, nestling against her after a moment of hesitation.

She listens to him breathe against her skin until it slows and his eyes close and she can see that he is breathing. Very gently, she leans forward and kisses his forehead.

They dreamed of their previous lives before they remembered and she was Snow and he was Charming again. They dreamed.

"Dream of me," she whispers, and kisses his temple. "Come back to me."

With that, she closes her eyes too and rests her head against his chest while he sleeps – and she hopes.


	76. Chapter Seventy-Five

II

**Chapter Seventy-Five**

II

Present day

II

Emma wakes early, and for a moment she isn't even entirely sure why. There are no strange sounds in the house nor any 'Charming' bat signal in the sky, just the first light of the pre-dawn. There are no outward signs of trouble, just silence and peace.

Perhaps that is why she's awake. She's learned not to trust peace or silence. Something always seems to disrupt it. It always seems like something good is always followed by something bad.

Maybe one day she'll learn to think otherwise again. For now, she walks downstairs to make a cup of coffee, only to find David sitting at the kitchen table already. His shoulders are hunched and he looks troubled, but it is the lack of presence he has that throws her most of all. She's grown used to his quiet assertive presence, stepping up to lead the moment it was required of him.

This man doesn't have that.

"Hey," she says and he looks up. He smiles hesitantly, ad she feels a sharp pain at the lack of recognition in his eyes.

"Emma," he says, as if trying out the sound of her name.

"Yeah," she agrees. "Couldn't sleep?"

"I had a strange dream," he says, looking down at his hands. "It felt more real than this, as if this is the dream and I'm still waiting to wake up."

"David..." she begins, but isn't sure how to finish. He looks up at her with a sad smile and she puts her hand on his without thinking. He doesn't shy away from her touch, almost as if his body knows her when his mind doesn't.

"Mary Margaret looks as me as if she's missing me," he says forlornly after a moment.

"She just wants you to get your memories back," Emma says carefully. She thinks of what she has seen of her parents as Snow and Charming, and knows she wants that man back for her mother as well as for Henry and herself.

He nods slowly, then looks at her with curiosity. "You did magic. I saw it."

"Believe me, weeks ago I would have thought was magic crazy too," she says and his eyes seem very blue in the dark as he regards her.

"I don't think you're crazy," he says softly. "I lost my memories by magic too, didn't I? A gunshot to the shoulder wouldn't cause that."

"Yes."

"Could you restore them with magic as well?"

"I don't know," Emma says honestly. "I don't seem to have much control over it yet, but Regina said she'd teach me..."

"Regina," he says, looking surprised. "She has magic?"

"Yeah," Emma admits. "She had magic in your world as well I think, before you were all cursed and ended up here."

"Do you trust her?" he asks.

She shrugs. "Mary Margaret does."

"I see." He looks thoughtful and she could wonder what it must be like to wake up in a world that suddenly is turned on its axis. She could, but she already knows all too well what that is like. "What was I like?"

She takes a few breaths before trusting her voice. "You were a good father. I think you always were. But after the curse broke, you were more assertive. More or a leader. Quite a badass, actually. You and Mary Margaret wouldn't hesitate to take on a dragon if it kept your family safe."

"Sounds brave," he says absentmindedly. "Did I still love her?"

"Hell yeah," Emma says and thinks of all the evidence she saw of that, including the one she can't get rid of even with alcohol. "You were almost gross about it."

He gives her a low chuckle at that. "Sorry. Did... Did she love me after the curse broke?"

"Hell yeah," Emma says again and this time he smiles faintly.

"I wish I could remember that," he says and stares down at his wedding ring, drawing a finger across it.

"If I can help you remember, I will," she says lightly and he looks at her again with that open, honest gaze. That hasn't changed in him.

"Thank you," he says. Something seems to pass over his face, but it is gone before she can catch it. "You're not just Henry's birth mother, are you? You wouldn't be living here if you were. I wouldn't feel this... This strange sensation of familiarity, but I can't remember why."

Her breath catches at the emotion in his voice. He still feels some of the same things that he felt when he knew he was her father. He just can't remember why.

"I'm not just," she agrees and he nods slowly. "I'm sure it will come back to you."

"I wish I was that sure," he says and drains his cup.

II

Mary Margaret is sleeping curled into his side of the bed, as if he was still there and she is clinging to him, David sees. Normally he would smile at it, but now he just feels empty.

He isn't who she loves. He can see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice, feel it in her touch. He can remember 28 years of loving her and she loving him. He can tell the difference.

He's forgotten something, they all tell him. He just doesn't know what, except he is apparently some fairytale character who has been cursed to think he's David Nolan. It sounds utterly improbable, yet Mary Margaret believes it. Emma believes it, and he has a strange urge to trust her. He also saw something he can only explain as magic.

Mary Margaret sighs and he steps hesitantly closer, the familiar desire to hold her filling him. Instead, he sits down by the bed and puts his hand on her head. Slowly, he draws his fingers through her hair. Her face relaxes at the touch and he watches her dark lashes against her pale skin before leaning forward to kiss her eyelids gently.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers thickly. "I love you."

Then he gets up and slips out quietly.

II

Neal falls back against the bed, not caring where he lands as long as it's soft. His head hurts and his body feels slow and he's painfully and acutely aware how much he needs sleep.

No sign of his father anywhere. He's spent the evening and night looking and now it's morning. Nothing at all, not even here in his apartment. It is as if his father has simply vanished into thin air.

He hears the door open and looks up sharply, only to see it's merely Tamara. She smiles sympathetically as she sees the state he's in.

"Hey," she says, leaning down to kiss him softly. "Did you find your dad?"

"No," he says, letting his head fall back down on the bed. She lays down next to him after a moment. "I checked police bulletins and ER admissions too. Nothing."

"I'm sorry," she says, putting a hand on his chest. "Maybe he ran out on you again."

He winces, remembering the sort-of-truth, sort-of-lie he told her about his family. To explain the full truth seemed impossible at the time, but now he almost wishes he had.

"He came a long way to find me," he says. "I can't believe he'd just..."

"People don't change," Tamara says surprisingly harshly, and he glances over at her. "They stay true to their nature."

The Dark One, Neal thinks. He used to think he could save his father from that. It feels like several lifetimes ago, and in one way it is.

"I don't know," he says tiredly. "I just know he's my dad."

"I know, baby," Tamara says, her face in shadow. "I know he is. Why don't you tell me about him?"

He closes his eyes as she touches his face gently. She's been so sweet and supportive all the time he's known her, never asking for details. But she must be curious and he knows she has picked up on his slight daddy issues.

He told Emma, he remembers. Not the whole truth, but some of it. If he had told her everything, maybe things would have turned out differently when he found out who she was. Maybe he would have had the courage to stay with her and help her break the curse.

Maybe he could have raised Henry with her.

He can't change the past, but he can change the future. He can change his nature.

"I can tell you about him," he says and Tamara props her head up on an elbow to look at him. "But you might think I'm crazy at the end of it."

She smiles. "Try me."

II

Snow wakes to a feeling of something being terribly wrong, and it takes her a moment to realize it's because the other side of the bed is empty. She's used to waking next to David's warm body, a habit 29 years in the making.

Sure, he would slip out of bed sometimes to check on Henry or make her breakfast, but he always came back. And now, now his side of the bed is cold and empty.

Hurriedly, she gets out of bed and puts on clothes. As she enters the kitchen, she sees Emma sitting there eating cereal while looking very determinedly down. It reminds Snow of Henry when he had snuck out at night or had been caught by David trying to sneak out.

"Where is he?" Snow asks without preamble.

"Henry?" Emma says, still looking down. "Still asleep. I thought maybe I could try making him pancakes. I know they're not David's but..."

"David," Snow corrects and something crosses Emma's face. It reminds Snow of Charming whenever he was feeling guilty. "Emma, where is David?"

Emma sighs, then finally looks up and her eyes look almost teary. "He went to try and get Charming back for you."

II

Regina was half expecting Emma or Graham or maybe even Snow at her door this morning, especially given what the state of King George probably is this morning.

She was not expecting David.

"Regina," he says. She can tell from the tone of his voice and his expression that he's simply David Nolan still. The body language gives it away too.

"I'm sorry to disturb," he says and looks far more apologetic than he has reason to. "I was hoping you could help me."

"With what?"

"Who I was," he says and Regina looks more closely at him. He doesn't have the steel that Charming has, but there is a sort of quiet determination in him. "You have magic."

"Yes," Regina agrees. "But I haven't tried restoring memories before. It may be dangerous. It might even remove your curse memories too and then you will have nothing at all."

He takes that in, then take s a deep breath as if to steel himself. "She looks at me as if I'm lost to her. Can you imagine someone you love more than anything looking at you as if you're lost to them?"

Regina closes her eyes. She can. She can imagine how Daniel would look at her if he had ever seen her as the Evil Queen. "Yes."

"I think love is worth that risk, don't you?" he asks, and she looks at him and thinks of Snow and Charming and all the risks they took to be together. Then she thinks of Daniel and the risk she is considering taking to bring him back.

"Yes," she says. "It is."


	77. Chapter Seventy-Six

II

**Chapter Seventy-Six**

II

Present day

II

Snow runs. She's never felt like a particularly graceful runner. As a princess, she was trained to walk with grace, to dance with grace, to sit with grace, but they never covered running with grace.

Then again, there were a lot of things she was never trained in as a princess that she has found necessary skills to live. How to survive in the forest. How to use a bow and arrow. How to waylay a carriage. How to fight an ogre, a troll, an Evil Queen. How to run for your life.

So now she runs. Her life might not be in actual fatal danger, but the thought of David doing something foolhardy to regain his memories is another sort of danger to her life and just as potent.

"Regina!" she calls as she approaches the house. "Regina!"

There is no answer. Not even when she pounds at the door. No sign of David's truck either. They must have gone somewhere, but not too far. The funeral is later today after all, and Regina will want to attend that.

She tries to call again on her cell phone, but again no one picks up.

Where would they go, where would they go, where...

Oh. Of course. To a place that is said to bring back lost things, as they all know.

The well.

II

David stares down the well. It looks like nothing out of the ordinary, but he vaguely remember stories about it. Stories he can't remember hearing, yet still vaguely recalls. That it brings back what is lost.

"So I should drink from this?" he asks.

"And this," Regina says, holding up the potion. He bites back a shudder as he sees the dark colors swirling in it. Magic. Suddenly the world seems full of magic.  
"What will that do?"

"It's a curse," she says. "It should remove all your memories. Hopefully the water will only bring back all your memories and not just the curse."

"But...?" he says, knowing there is a catch. He can see it in her face.

"But there is no way of knowing it will work. It could restore just your curse memories or it may not restore any memories at all. It's a risk."

He nods slowly, watching the pail of water they've pulled from the well and then the potion. He thinks of Henry, of Mary Margaret and the staggering sense of something lost.

"Give me the potion," he says and Regina puts it in his hand before lifting her gaze to his face. She stares at him as if she's trying to find the answer to something.

"You don't know who I was in our land," she says. "Why do you trust me?"

"Mary Margaret trusts Emma and Emma trusts you," he says. "It's enough for me."

"I was the Evil Queen," she says harshly. "I tried to kill you, I tried to kill your beloved and somehow you both gave me a second chance."

"Oh," he says faintly. This woman tried to kill him? He has no memories of that, only of her occasional gruffness towards Mary Margaret. "You said you were the Evil Queen. Are you still?"

She closes her eyes and exhales. He watches, almost fascinated, as a shadow seems to leave her face.

"No," she says and opens her eyes. She's teary and smiling at the same time. "I'm not."

He smiles back at her. "I'm glad."

"DAVID!" Mary Margaret calls desperately and he looks up to his wife running towards them. She pauses just a few feet away, staring at the potion in his hand with an almost wild expression. "What are you doing?"

"What I have to," he says softly, while Regina looks from one to the other. "I love you."

"Don't do this just for me," she begs, the tone in her voice filled with so much pain it almost staggers him. "David, please..."

"Who is Emma?" he asks and Mary Margaret closes her eyes and pain flickers across her face and then comes to rest there. "Mary Margaret, who is she?"

"Our daughter," Mary Margaret answers faintly, but with a certain sense of pride too.

Yes, he thinks. Somehow he knows it's true, as impossible as it seems. He feels it to be true. Emma is their daughter and he's forgotten it. He's lost their daughter. He's lost his wife and his daughter, and Henry looks at him as if there is something lost between them as well.

"We have a daughter," he says, hearing the wonder in his own voice. Mary Margaret nods with tears in her eyes, smiling beautifully and yet sadly at the same time. "This man I was, he loved her, didn't he?"

"More than anything," she says. "David..."

"And he loved you more than anything," he goes on and she just nods. He can't quite imagine loving her more than he already does, but it must be true. "And Henry, he loved Henry too."

"Of course," she says. "David, stop talking about him as if he's not you."

"He's going to be," he says and drinks the potion as Mary Margaret cries out.

II

"No!" Snow cries out, as David falls over and the empty potion falls to the ground. She falls to her knees to steady him and he looks up at her with a blank expression. He doesn't know her, not even as Mary Margaret. "No! Regina..."

"He has to drink the water from the well," Regina says, kneeling down also. She holds up the pail and together they manage to lift his head up and ease some water down his throat. His eyes close as he swallows and his eyelids flutter.

"David," Snow murmurs and his fingers close around her hand in response. "Come back to me."

"Mary Margaret?" he mutters and she draws a sharp, ragged breath that feels almost painful. Oh. He remembers that at least. She hasn't lost him fully. Together with Regina, she helps him back on his feet.

"Yes," Regina says. She's staring at him as if she's willing him on. "What's her other name, David?"

"I..." he starts, opening his eyes and staring at Snow intently. "The forest... I... I don't remember, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Regina lowers her head as if in defeat. Snow just focuses on breathing, knowing her heart would break if it wasn't in pieces already. And then, then the anger sets in. She could have lost him. She could have lost him completely.

"You idiot!" she says angrily. "You're risking everything just to remember? How is losing you completely going to help me? What the hell were you thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking," he admits. " I love you so much, both as Mary Margaret and as who you are now. I just wanted you to have that man you love so much back..."

"You are that man!" she counters angrily. After all, this is such a Charming thing to do, she thinks distantly. He would do something like this. Of course he would. He would risk himself for her and his family, as he's done before.

She loves that wonderful, brave, idiotic side of him so much. She loves him so much, and she pulls him to her abruptly. Angrily, she kisses him, almost attacking his lips with her own. For a moment, he simply holds her gently in return. then a shudder seems to go through him and he gasps into her kiss.

"Snow?" he murmurs and she pulls back sharply. His face is bright as she regards it, half wanting to hope and half not daring to.

"Charming?" she asks.

"Yes, it's me," he says and he grins and she grins, because she can see it. She can see it in his eyes and his face and the way his shoulders are set. She can feel it in how his arm goes around her to press her against him possessively and how his lips come crashing onto hers.

The kiss is needy and rough and filled with so much joy, and yet it's not enough. She digs her fingers into his neck to press him even closer and he makes that low noise in his throat that she knows so well now.

Charming. This is _Charming_ , her Charming and also Mary Margaret's David and he's both again and she has her husband of two worlds back.

"I think true love's kiss has done its job now," Regina says drily.

Snow can feel Charming smiling against her lips for a moment, stealing another kiss before he pulls back. He wraps an arm around her as she leans into his side.

"Thank you, Regina," he says softly.

"Looks to me like you should thank your wife," Regina counters, but there is something soft in her expression nevertheless. Snow holds out a hand and Regina accepts it, squeezing lightly. "Though perhaps the water from the well allowed true love's kiss to work."

Or maybe they both had to love both parts of each other for it to be true love, Snow thinks but doesn't say. Mary Margaret and Snow. David and Charming.

"Whatever did it, you were willing to help," Charming says. He regards Regina and Snow can see something new in his gaze. It was on her insistence and for her sake he gave Regina a second chance, Snow knows that, and she could always see it in his gaze too. Regina could probably see it too. But now he looks at Regina as if he finally sees what Snow has been looking for all these years also.

The woman before the Evil Queen. Regina.

II

Gold dreams of Belle.

She's dancing in his dream, dancing in a golden dress in the library of his old castle. She is smiling, a joyous bright smile at makes her whole face light up. Her eyes twinkle too and every now and then she laughs with nothing more than joy.

"Rumpel," she says, holding out her hand.

"I can't," he says, but she simply takes his hand and looks at him.

"Yes, you can," she says, her faith in him radiating. "You're just afraid to."

"I'm a coward," he says. He is. He knows it. He's been called it so many times.

"If you're not afraid, you can't be brave," Belle says and he steps closer. Brave Belle. Bright, brave and beloved Belle. "As long as you're afraid, you can still have your chance to be brave."

"Belle," he says longingly and she laughs again, drawing him onto the floor.

"Rumpel," she says and he closes his eyes to the sound of her voice.

"Rumpelstiltskin," another voice says and the dream unravels like a faint spider web being cut into. He isn't with Belle. He isn't in the Enchanted Forest, yet he's being called by that name.

He opens his eyes to see Tamara leaning over him. She is smiling, but not pleasantly. Her eyes are dark, and he strangely remembers Zoso. Zoso said he could recognize another desperate soul, and Rumpel has learned to do the same since then.

"That's who you are, isn't it?" Tamara asks softly. "The Dark One. And if we can control you, we could wipe out Storybrooke and remove magic from this world. We can get rid of magic before anyone else has to pay the price for it."

Yes, Rumpel thinks distantly. A desperate soul. He's looking at one.


	78. Chapter Seventy-Seven

II

**Chapter Seventy-Seven**

II

Present day

II

"We'll see you later," Snow tells Regina, stepping out of the truck to give her a hug. David can see Regina's expression from where he is sitting, and it's equal amounts of surprise and tenderness. She meets his gaze over Snow's shoulder and he offers a soft smile.

After a moment, Regina pulls away from Snow and just gives a curt nod before walking up the driveway and into her house. Snow looks after her thoughtfully, then climbs back into the truck. The moment she is inside he pulls her to him as much as the truck allows, and she tilts her head to meet his kiss.

She would tell him they're in full view of passers-by and anyone in the street looking out a window, but she doesn't care. She's kissed him in the middle of balls, of council meetings, of battles. What's a truck in the middle of the street but another public place to add to the collection?

His lips are soft as they brush hers, teasing and tugging at hers before caressing them almost reverently. She digs her fingers into the cloth of his jacket to pull him closer and he sighs happily.

She pulls back reluctantly after a few moments,. They both want desperately to see Emma and Henry, after all, and this can wait. It will wait, and he meets her gaze in silent understanding.

"Tonight," he says, and she nods. They have more than a few things to talk about, after all, and then there is that other kind of communication as well.

He presses his forehead against hers and his nearness is like a balm.

"Don't do this again," she tells him sternly and he nods. She presses another kiss to his lips, letting it linger when he meets it eagerly. Eventually, it's he who pulls away reluctantly, but with a smile.

"Let's go home," he says, and they do.

II

Tamara lets Owen watch their unexpectedly valuable package for a while, and walks out to get some fresh air. She should be feeling triumphant, she knows. They finally have a weapon, and all they need to do is find the dagger that puts control in their hands. Plenty of reason to feel triumphant.

And yet she doesn't quite feel it. She isn't even sure why. It's just something nagging at her, persistently so.

They are doing the right thing, she reminds herself. She will go with Neal to Storybrooke once he gives up on finding his father. Owen will keep the package safe and sound close to Storybrooke until she locates the dagger.

And then, then they'll do what's necessary. That's what she keeps telling Owen, and what she keeps telling herself. It was necessary to get Neal to reveal what he knew about his father so they can use it. It may be necessary to use Neal again, and she will do it.

That shouldn't nag at her. That really shouldn't, and yet it won't go away even in the fresh air.

II

"Emma! Henry!" a voice calls and Emma looks up from the couch where she and Henry are doing research for Operation Elephant. It's David, she sees. David is barging in as he has no care for the door and only cares for them and...

She draws a quick breath as she takes him in. He's... Is he?

"Dad?" Henry asks, getting up. Behind David, Mary Margaret appears with teary eyes yet a happy bright smile.

"Dad?" Emma tries too and he looks at her with such a loving gaze she has to swallow. Then she finds herself wrapped in a hug together with Henry, and Mary Margaret joins in as well.

"I am," David whispers, lifting his hand to stroke her hair gently. "I remember."

Emma breathes, her heartbeat like thunder in her ears as she buries her head against her father's shoulder. Her father. Dad. He remembers.

"I knew you would," Henry says confidently and Mary Margaret laughs happily, ruffling Henry's hair. David chuckles too, finally pulling back. He pauses to brush a few tears from Emma's face with his knuckles; tears she didn't even notice shedding.

"Hey," he says gently.

"Don't do that again," she says, keeping her voice deceptively light.

He chuckles. "Your mother has already stressed that point."

Mary Margaret chuckles as well when Emma looks at her, and Emma impulsively gives her a hug as well. David watches them both fondly while putting an arm around Henry.

"Did mom get your memories back?" Henry asks, sounding excited by the prospect. Emma is half suspecting he is planning to make his own storybook, inspired by the fairytale book, probably illustrated and everything.

"Mom and Regina," David says softly. "But I think that's a story for another early morning, don't you Henry?"

Henry nods and looks up at Emma, and Emma just knows that story won't be told unless she's there to hear it too. Somehow, family story time has come to include her as well.

"It is," Mary Margaret agrees. "And we have a funeral to get ready for."

"For Regina's mom and dad?" Henry asks, and Mary Margaret nods. "She must be really sad about it. She made a room for her dad and now he can't use it."

"It's always sad to lose your dad," Emma says, feeling David look at her.

"When I am sad, I go to mom and dad or Emma," Henry says thoughtfully. "Who does Regina go to?"

Mary Margaret and David exchange a glance.

"We're hoping she'll come to us," Mary Margaret says softly and wistfully, and David strokes her back. "In time."

Henry looks thoughtful at that and Emma is pretty certain a new operation just got underway.

II

"So it was you," a voice says and Gold tries to focus on it. Owen, he vaguely remembers. The man who is working with Tamara. "You brought magic to this world. My father died from it. He was ripped apart."

He never thought much about this other land that the curse would bring them to, Gold reflects. Even if he had thought about it, he probably wouldn't have cared. He would rather rip a whole country apart than rip Belle's heart from her chest, yet he did that to find his son.

"Accident," Gold mutters. It's true enough. He didn't intend to kill Owen's father. He just wouldn't have cared that he did if he found out back then.

"Accident?" Owen repeats. "After all this time, after all I've searched, that's the best you can offer me?"

Gold doesn't answer. He knows whatever he can offer will never be enough. It never is for those seeking revenge.

"You took my family from me," Owen says darkly. "How do you think you'll feel when I make you rip your own son apart? When I make you destroy your entire family?"

No, Gold thinks. No. He's just found his son. He's not going to lose him now. He's not going to let Neal lose his son. He'd rather die.

Huh. He actually would rather die. Maybe he can find a way to. He's afraid of it, so afraid, but maybe this means he can finally get a chance to be brave.

"I know how you'll feel," Gold says instead of answering, fighting to get the words out. "Triumph – and then nothing."

II

The funeral of Cora and Henry Mills is a quiet, dignified event with far more participants than Regina could ever expect. Snow, Charming, Emma and Henry are there, looking solemn but with a slightly happy air to them she can't even blame them for given the events earlier in the day. Ruby and Granny are also present, and all seven dwarfs. Those she was expecting.

But then there is Belle, and Hook, and Archie, and Graham, and Abigail and Fredrick, and several children and parents from school and even the Blue Fairy. They're not here for love of Henry Mills and definitely not Cora, Regina knows.

That leaves her as the reason. They've come for her. Maybe on Snow and Charming's urging, yes, but for her.

They all come to her house afterward too, filling her house with quiet chatter and sounds. She walks among it without really participating, for now finding the mere presence enough.

Eventually Hook finds her in the kitchen, putting down a bottle before her. She raises an eyebrow at it.

"You said I couldn't buy you a drink," he says. "You didn't say anything about a bottle, darling."

"An attempt at being clever, Hook?"

"Maybe," he says smoothly. "But mostly just an attempt at you."

Before she can answer, he gives her a smile and walks out, passing by Snow and Charming and Henry who are walking in.

"How are you holding up?" Snow asks, compassion lacing her voice.

"I'm fine," Regina replies curtly. Neither of them look to believe it, but they don't challenge it either.

"Henry was hoping to ask you a question," David says, putting his hands on Henry's shoulders.

"What is it, Henry?" Regina says.

"You're going to be sad today," Henry says and Regina can't even find it in herself to protest. "So I thought we could come to you."

"We could stay over," Snow elaborates. "Henry, myself and Charming."

Love is weakness, her mother always told her. Regina remembers that. Cora ripped out her own heart to prevent that weakness; to ensure she didn't love, and to ensure she wasn't vulnerable.

Cora's body was buried today. Perhaps it's time to bury the rest of her.

"I'd like that," Regina says, feeling vulnerable and strong at the same time.

II

Graham finds Emma out on the porch, nursing a beer with a distant look in her eyes. He sits down next to her without saying anything, but he knows she's aware of his presence.

"He got his memories back," she finally says, and even though she tries to keep her voice even, he can hear the happiness in it.

"I'm glad," he offers. He is. For Emma, for Snow and for Charming himself. For Henry too, who would always love his dad either way but was developing quite a hero worship of Prince Charming as well.

It must be nice growing up having heroes, Graham rather thinks. And parents.

"King George seems to have the opposite problem," he continues and Emma finally looks at him. "He seems to have lost his. Thinks he's a sheep farmer named Spencer."

"I thought the curse wouldn't work on him," Emma says. "He crossed the town line and kept his memories. Why would he lose them now? You sure he isn't faking it?"

"I'll keep an eye on him for now, but I don't think so," Graham says and she takes another sip of the beer. "But it's possible he got the curse another way."

"Regina," Emma says. It's not a question. Regina has magic and knowledge of curses, after all, and without Rumpelstiltskin here she is probably the only one capable of something like that. Also the only one with a motive, and Graham is pretty sure he knows what it is.

Regina once took his heart for failing to take Snow White's, he remembers. Now she is willing to curse kings into sheep farmers to keep Snow and Charming safe. How things change.

"They're going to stay over," she tells him. "My parents and Henry, they're staying over here tonight."

"Right," he says. "They? Not you? Where are you staying?"

"At your place," she says and he looks up sharply. She takes another sip of beer, and keeps looking forward, but he can still catch a glimpse of something vulnerable on her face before she manages to hide it.

Maybe one day she won't even hide it, he thinks and likes the thought.


	79. Chapter Seventy-Eight

II

**Chapter Seventy-Eight**

II

Present day

II

Family dinner, Regina considers and watches Snow, Charming and Henry around her table, all happily eating her lasagna. She had them to dinner a few times as the Nolans, but only Henry is still much the same as then.

She was Mary Margaret's boss then. Now she is... She isn't entirely sure exactly what, only that whatever she is, Snow, Charming and Henry seem to be counting her as part of the family and that's definition enough.

David helps her with the dishes after, while Snow and Henry find a few board games to play. To her surprise, Regina discovers that Snow and Charming make quite a ruthless team playing monopoly, their only real weakness their inability to go after the other. Luckily, Henry is open for an alliance and on the third try, they finally manage to beat the two others into submission.

It's strangely fun, Regina finds. Eventually, the little prince gets tired and they put him to bed (in her father's room – Henry's room for Henry) and Regina gets to tuck him in while Snow and Charming watch from the doorway.

To her surprise, Snow and Charming stay up with her without even asking if she wants the company. (She does.) They curl up in one of her armchairs together with Snow on Charming's lap while she takes the couch – she would offer to trade but the lack of space between them seems to be just what Snow and Charming want. (As always.)

She takes a glass of red wine, and Charming accepts an offer of it as well while Snow just wants a glass of ice tea. And so they sit and drink in the silence, but it's a comforting silence.

"I'm sorry," she finally says and Snow looks up from Charming's shoulder. "I shouldn't have blamed you for Daniel's death."

It's the first time she's said it aloud and she can see Snow's eyes glisten with tears.

"I'm sorry I didn't keep your secret," Snow says and Charming kisses her temple softly, murmuring something into her skin that Regina can't hear.

Regina closes her eyes and nods. In her mind, she can see Snow's young and bright eyes as she made the promise, and the light from Daniel's eyes fading as he died. The anger is there too, but it feels like the memory of anger now. Not that overwhelming, dark anger that ate at her and drove her to do such terrible things.

"I thought about using the curse," Regina says and they both look up at her. "Before you captured me, I thought about it. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I did use it."

"I sometimes wonder what I would have been like if I had been the one raised by King George," Charming says after a moment. He laces his fingers with Snow's, looking thoughtful. "I wonder if I would have been more like George then."

"I sometimes wonder what I would have been like if that arrow hadn't been stopped," Snow says and lifts her hand to Charming's shoulder, caressing it softly. Regina has no idea what Snow might be referring to, but she can see it's not a pleasant thought.

"To crossroads," Regina suggests, holding up her glass. "And to taking the right path."

"I'll drink to that," Charming agrees and they all three clink their glasses quietly together. It feels like another fork in the road, Regina reflects, and this time she is certain she is taking the right path.

II

Emma curses as her phone rings, feeling Graham's mouth continue down her neck as she tries to fumble her phone out of her purse. It can't be her parents, they know where she is. (Unless that is why they're calling.) And it can't be the job, since her boss is rather preoccupied at the moment.

It's Neal, the display tells her.

"Hang on," she tells Graham, and the bastard does just that, keeping his mouth just above her collarbone and breathing on her skin. "Neal, hey."

"Hey," Neal says and she can tell just from the tone of his voice that things aren't going well. "No sign of him here."

Right. Gold is missing. She remembers that, even if the whole George debacle put it out of her mind temporarily. "He hasn't come back to Storybrooke as far as I know."

"I know," he replies. "I called Belle earlier, she told me. I heard something happened with your parents as well?"

"Yeah, but they're fine now," Emma says as calmly as she can manage and Graham lifts his head to look at her. He must see something in her face, because he cups her cheek gently.

"Good," Neal says. He sounds sincere. "Look, I know this is a horrible thing to ask you, but you're a bailbondswoman. You know how to find people. Could you help me look for him?"

"Come to New York, you mean?" she asks and Graham frowns at her.

"Yeah," Neal says and she wishes she could tell him no then and there. That she has a family she wants to stay with and have already lost too much time with, that she has something akin to a boyfriend to spend time with and that he has no right to ask.

But she knows a bit about what it might be like to lose a father now. Even one you've been separated from for a long time.

"I'll see what I can do," she says tiredly. "I'll call you tomorrow, Neal."

Graham looks at her as she hangs up, his eyes searching her face. She pulls her forehead to his instead, linking her hands behind his neck.

"I'll tell you tomorrow," she says, as he tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. "I don't want to think about it tonight."

"What do you want to think about?" he asks, his voice low. She leans forward and kisses him, and he seems to find that response more than answer enough.

II

"You should tell him," Regina tells Snow as David walks into the kitchen to put away the wine bottle and glasses.

"What?" Snow says. Regina couldn't possibly... Could she?

"You're pregnant," Regina says, not inviting an argument. Oh. So it is possible after all. She does know.

"How did you know?" Snow asks, feeling her hands go to her stomach.

"Magic, dear. And the ice tea."

"And how do you know I haven't told him?"

"You're both terrible at hiding your emotions," Regina says, a hint of amusement in her voice. "If you had told your charming husband, his expression would be screaming it from the rooftops."

Snow can't quite hide her smile. Yes. His expression would. She remembers that wonder on his face when she first told him she was pregnant back in their land.

"Tell him," Regina says again. "Good night, Snow."

"Good night, Regina," Snow answers, feeling almost as if she's been given motherly counsel. But then, Regina was her stepmother and perhaps in some ways she still is something akin to married into the family. Or adopted. Or just in it by choice.

"Hey," Charming says, coming out of the kitchen just as Regina reaches the top of the stairs. Snow turns to face him, feeling his gaze caress her as he just stands still and watches her.

"I sound-proofed your room!" Regina calls from the stairs and Snow closes her eyes in mortification. Oh, great. Regina must be right – they are terrible at hiding their emotions.

"I keep telling you, in some ways she hasn't changed," David says and Snow opens her eyes to see him walk over to her. He looks slightly amused, but his gaze hasn't lost any of its intensity as he looks at her.

"In the important ways, she has," Snow counters softly and he nods.

"Should we retire to the room she's so helpfully sound-proofed for us?" he suggests after a moment. In response, she simply holds out a hand. He takes it, and she leads him up the stairs, through the hallway and into the guest room. Once inside, she locks the door behind him just as he pulls her against him and sighs.

"I love you," he says intently. He draws his hand across her neck, up to her ear and captures her earlobe between his fingers. She sighs at the familiar caress, feeling her body press itself closer to his of its own volition.

"Charming..."

"Snow," he says, kissing her forehead. Hearing him say her name again and knowing her name again is the loveliest sound she can imagine. She has him back. He knows her again, the only one who really knows all of her.

"Snow," he repeats, kissing her temple. "Snow."

He keeps repeating her name, kissing her face as he does. She closes her eyes as he begins moving down her neck on one side, then up on the other side until he finally presses a kiss against her lips and she doesn't let him pull back.

She tip-toes into the kiss as she draws his bottom lip between hers and brushes her tongue against it. He makes an appreciative noise at that, lowering his head to give her better access. His lips part readily before hers and she draws her thumb across his cheekbone as she kisses him the way that she's wanted to all day.

She pulls back after a minute or two, her lips feeling slightly swollen and her breath ragged from his kiss. Without a word, she takes him by the hand and leads him to bed. The sleepwear and change of clothes they've brought are folded nicely on top of the bed cover. Regina's doing, Snow guesses. It's almost welcoming.

Charming undresses her slowly, his hands caressing every inch of skin as he does. He used to do that in their old land, she remembers, and becoming quite the expert at getting her out of even the most exquisite ball gown. She does the same, as she would do in their land as well, learning quite well to master the art of getting a man out of a pair of tight pants.

They don't bother with the sleepwear now, putting it aside for later in an unspoken agreement. She needs to feel his skin against hers, to feel him as close as she can after having so much distance between them while his memories were gone. She knows he feels the same just from the look in his eyes and the way his hands linger on her skin. And so they slip into bed together, Charming drawing her against his body with his skin as soft as the linen sheets and as warm as the covers he tucks around them.

Even if they are in Regina's house, it feels like home just by having him next to her. It must to him too, because he is clearly not letting the fact that they're in a different house deter him much by the way he lowers his head to her skin.

She closes her eyes as he begins a slow path of open-mouthed kisses across her skin, teasing the skin just above her breasts before closing his mouth on one of them and a hand on the other. She draws her nails down his back as he continues, biting down on her lip but still not managing to keep herself from moaning.

"I missed you," she murmurs and he lifts his head to look at her.

"I'm right here," he assures her. "You found me."

"Did you ever doubt I would?" she jokes and he smiles.

"No," he says seriously, letting a hand linger on her hips as he regards her. "Though getting shot and cursed again did give me pause."

She laughs, and then kisses him while he's still smiling at her. She can feel the curve of his lips as she tugs at them, scarping her teeth across his bottom lip.

"Snow," he moans in protest when she pulls back slightly. She steadies him with a hand on his chest and he looks down at her.

"I love you," she says intently and he nods. He knows that, of course, but she still wants to reaffirm it. She wants him to feel it reaffirmed too, as she does as well. And so she leans forward to kiss him again. He meets her kiss softly before he tilts his head and peppers kisses along her lips until she moans impatiently. He deepens the kiss then, slanting his mouth across hers.

He doesn't break the kiss even when she lowers her hands to stroke him; he merely makes several throaty noises into the kiss. She can feel him grow harder in her hands as she continues and his breathing gets shallower.

"Snow," he moans again and the sound of her name said so possessively and needily that it makes her breath catch. She lifts her hands to press his body closer to hers, and he takes the opportunity to lower a hand between her thighs and press his palm up.

It's not enough, as he well knows from her impatient moan and years of sleeping with her. She bites down on his lower lip and grinds against his palm as his fingers remain still. Patient, far too patient Charming, though he would probably tell her the problem is the opposite – impatient, far too impatient Snow.

Agonizingly slowly, he begins drawing a circle with his thumb and her head would fall backwards is he wasn't still kissing her. She gasps instead, especially when he finally does press a finger into her and then another.

As the touches continue, she digs her fingers into his arm to have something to hold onto. She knows she's not really adrift, but her mind feels like it, waves and waves of sensations washing over her. She manages to bend her knee and lift her leg across his as he shifts position so they're both on their sides, sighing as he draws his fingers out.

He slides into her more than thrusts, his whole body tense from the effort of keeping it slow. She is no help, she knows, moving her body up and then down again. Her nipples brush against his smooth chest and he groans.

"You are going to be the death of me," he murmurs, breaking the kiss for a moment to adjust their positions further. "Good thing you're also my life."

She has no breath to answer him, especially as he captures her lips with his own again and starts moving at a slow, leisurely pace. His hands remain between them as well, drawing sharp gasps and throaty moans from her. It's good, so good, and she's close, so close – and she knows he is too from the tension in his body.

The waves become a tsunami as she gasps soundlessly and loses it. He does too, she can feel, his head falling to her shoulder as he clings to her. They remain like that for a few minutes, letting their breathing ease before he lifts her up and wraps a sheet around them both.

"Bathroom," he whispers against her temple and she just nods. Luckily, the hallway is empty and quiet, and so is the bathroom. They both have a shower there, kissing lazily under the warm water until it turns cold.

Once back in their room, they put on sleepwear and crawl under the covers again. Charming nestles against her with his hand across her abdomen and his head against her shoulder and she feels wonderfully at peace.

She has her husband back. They have their daughter back. They have their son. They have something akin to friendship with Regina now. For all the bad that has happened, she has to remember what she has.

And what they're about to have again.

"What is it?" he asks softly and she realizes he's been watching her face and noticing her expression.

"I have something to tell you," she says, closing her eyes slightly when he draws his fingers across the skin of her collarbone.

He nods, then simply waits her for her to speak, as always the patient one – though he could also be enjoying the chance to kiss her neck and cup a breast in his hand.

"Do you remember David and Mary Margaret's biggest regret before the adoption of Henry?" she asks finally and he lifts his head to look at her.

"Not having children," he says after a moment, voice pained. "We thought we were infertile."

"Yeah," she agrees, remembering Mary Margaret's pain at that. "But it was just the curse keeping time still. Emma coming to town changed that."

"And she broke the curse," he says. She can hear the father's pride in his voice and she leans up to kiss the underside of his jaw. "Snow, are you saying you're..."

"Yeah," she manages and he stares intently at her. "I guess we didn't think about birth control since David and Mary Margaret never used it and never had any children, and we haven't exactly been celibate since Emma arrived."

"No, we haven't," he breathes, looking at her in a decidedly un-celibate way. "This is what you were trying to tell me when we were looking at the house. You're pregnant."

She nods and his face breaks into a grin. She can't help but return it as he just stares at her in wonder.

"I'm just a few weeks along," she tells him. "Dr. Whale confirmed it with a blood test when I went to the check-up at the hospital. I wasn't sure if I should tell you since it's still so early."

"I'm glad you did," he says intently. She can feel one of his hands come to rest against her stomach, and it reminds her so much of when she was carrying Emma she wants to cry.

"I don't know how we'll tell Emma. I don't want her to feel..." she trails off, not even sure what Emma might feel.

"I know," he says. He kisses her softly and reassuringly. "We'll wait until you're further along before we tell Emma and Henry, and we'll make sure they know just how loved they are well before that."

Snow can just nod. He makes it sound so simple, even if he knows it probably won't be. He just believes they can make it simple eventually. One happy family. She wants to believe him so much, because she wants that so much too.

"We're going to have another child," he says in wonder, and she remembers being pregnant with Emma with him there, and raising Henry along with him. They've done each part before, but with different children and one as Snow and Charming and one as David and Mary Margaret Nolan.

"We are," she agrees, parting her lips to meet his kiss and trying very hard to have his faith too.


	80. Chapter Seventy-Nine

II

**Chapter Seventy-Nine**

II

Present day

II

David wakes as a sliver of sunlight caresses his face, an unfamiliar sensation. He's not used to the morning sun from this angle and it takes him a moment to remember they're in Regina's house.

The rest is more familiar, with Snow nestled against him and a hand resting on his chest. She is sleeping peacefully and he leans forward to kiss her temple. She sighs at that, leaning into it even in her sleep. Carefully, he lowers his head to kiss her stomach as well.

She's pregnant, he thinks and marvels at it. They're having another baby, and their third child. (Because Henry will always be their son. He's just also Emma's.)

"I love you," he whispers against Snow's stomach, because he's going to and because he already does.

Snow makes another noise, and he carefully pulls away from her and tucks her better into the covers. Quietly, he checks Henry's room to see their son is still sleeping. Then he pads barefoot downstairs to see if he can find something in Regina's kitchen to make breakfast for his family with.

He's too late, he finds out. Regina is already there and judging by the pile of food, she's been working on breakfast for a while.

"Good morning," he says and Regina looks up. She looks unsure for a moment, almost vulnerable, before she smiles.

"Good morning, Charming," she greets him. "I wasn't sure what you all liked for breakfast and Henry liked everything last time, so..."

"I see," he says lightly. She looks at him again with a knowing gaze. "What?"

"Snow told you," Regina says. It's not a question, and doesn't offer much room for denials either. "Don't worry, you're the first one she told. I just knew."

He nods slowly. "We're going to keep it quiet for a while since it's early days yet."

"Mum's the magic word," Regina replies, returning her attention to the selection of juices: apple, orange, mango. She has all sorts of cereals out too, and various pastries and bread. It almost reminds him of feasts back in their land.

"Need a hand?" he asks. "I make a mean pancake."

"So Henry told me," Regina says drily. "Let's see what you can do, Charming."

II

Emma wakes to the smell of breakfast. It takes her a few moments to realize she's in fact not in her bed and it's not her parents making food. It's Graham.

Her own clothes are scattered around the room, so she pulls on one of Graham's shirts before padding barefoot into his kitchen. He is shirtless, she notices, wearing only a pair of shorts while cooking eggs and bacon. The smell reminds her that she is rather hungry.

"Morning," she tells him and he looks up. "Is this how you treat all your deputies?"

"No idea," he replies. "Have only had one and have no plans to replace her."

"No current plans to replace her," she jokes but his gaze is serious as he regards her.

"No plans ever," he says. A deputy job open for life, though she knows that's not all he's keeping open for her. The thought makes a part of her want to flee, but an even stronger part of her seems to be rooted to the spot. She has a mom and dad now. She has Henry. If she can have all those and not run for the nearest town, she can have a Graham too.

"Job security for life, huh?" she manages.

"Yeah," he says. "Eggs and bacon not included, though."

She chuckles and walks over to kiss him, leaning into it for a moment before pulling back reluctantly.

"Mr. Gold is still missing," she says with a sigh. "Neal asked me to come to New York to help him look."

"You just came back from there," Graham says, sounding not very thrilled with the idea.

"I know," she sighs. "But I really don't like that Gold's missing. Do you think you could hold down the fort here for a few days if I go looking for him?"

He nods, but she can see the regret in his eyes. "I'm sure your parents can hold down the castle as well, but they won't like to see you go."

"I know," she says, and strangely, she finds herself smiling at that.

II

The breakfast is surprisingly pleasant, Snow finds. Sure, she misses Emma there (though a quick phone call does confirm her daughter is alive and well – not that she feared otherwise, but is always nice to have confirmation) but she still finds herself enjoying it.

Charming and Regina have even invented a new pancake together, and Regina solemnly swears to have Henry's room ready for Henry whenever he wants to have a sleepover adventure with his mom and dad. And when Charming lets his hand linger on Snow's stomach for just a moment too long, Regina smiles knowingly and Snow just smiles back.

After breakfast, Regina heads off to whatever she is up to (finding Rumpelstiltskin's dagger, Snow has a hunch). Henry has school, and so Charming drives all three of them there.

They used to drive Henry to school themselves the first year, Snow remembers. So anxious that nothing should happen to him. First-time parents – or so they thought. Then again, they never really got to raise Emma, so perhaps first-time parents was true enough.

"Have a good day, Henry," she tells her son softly and Charming takes her hand while they both watch Henry walk up the stairs and vanish into the mass of other schoolchildren.

"He's growing up," she says softly.

"They all do," Charming says, and she can tell from the tone of his voice he's thinking of Emma.

"Emma said she'd meet us for lunch at Granny's," she tells him as they walk back to the truck hand-in-hand, and he lights up. Children. They might grow up fast, but they bring so much light as they do.

II

Ruby wakes with a start, realizing she's in the forest without even remembering how she got there. She can't remember anything of last night, in fact.

The wolf, she thinks dimly. She had Granny lock her up last night, but apparently it couldn't hold the wolf. It is as she feared, then. She can't control it here.

She rises to her feet slowly, looking around. She can't see anyone else, but she does feel a strangely familiar scent.

Oh. King George, she remembers. She was trying to track him for Snow, following his scent and losing it across town. In the end, she couldn't find him in time.

What was he doing out here? Nothing good, she is willing to bet, and she's certainly not willing to wager Snow and Charming's safety on anything.

Carefully, she follows the scent into the forest.

II

David and Mary Margaret are already sitting in a booth when Emma walks in, even if she's quite early. It makes her smile, and she takes the opportunity to watch her parents for a few moments before they notice her.

They're drinking hot chocolate, hands linked under the table and Emma is willing to bet their thighs are pressed together as well. They look at each other now and then too, their lips turning a little upwards every time they do. Even if they're doing nothing indecent, it still manages to look intimate.

"Emma!" Mary Margaret calls as they spot her. She gives them a smile and sits down across from them. "You're early."

"So are you," Emma counters, but with a smile. "Look, Neal called me last night and asked me to come to New York to help him look for Gold. I think I should. I don't like that he's missing."

David and Mary Margaret exchange a troubled glance.

"Are you sure he's not setting this up to have his son look for him?" David asks gently. "He's not beyond arranged kidnappings to achieve his goals."

"I know," Emma agrees, glancing over at Mary Margaret. She remembers the last kidnapping he arranged. "If he is, maybe it will help Neal to call his bluff. I'll be gone two days max."

"I don't like it," Mary Margaret says, then bites her lip. "Sorry."

David doesn't like it either, Emma can tell, even if he holds his tongue. He just looks disapproving.

"I don't like it either," Emma tells them, and David opens his mouth just as Mary Margaret's phone rings.

"Sorry," Mary Margaret says, digging her phone out of her pocket. "It's Ruby. Ruby, hi! How... What? In the forest? Where? Yeah, I've got Emma and Charming with me. We'll be right there."

"What's going on?" David asks before Emma can.

"Ruby found someone in the forest who says George and Cora brought him there," Mary Margaret says, looking puzzled. "She wants us to help get him to hospital."

"Let's take the truck," David says, getting to his feet. "Let's find out what all this is about."

II

The truck pulls up, and Ruby is glad to see Snow, Charming and Emma all exit it. Snow has brought water, and she hurries over.

"This is Anton," Ruby says, as Snow leans over and offers the man a drink. He gulps it down eagerly. "I followed George's scent and found him. George and Cora had him chained up in the forest. He's from our land. He used to be a giant."

"What did they want with him?" Emma asks, a frown across her forehead that reminds Ruby of Charming.

"Beans," Anton says faintly.

"Beans?" Charming repeats, and Anton goes very still before looking up.

"You!"

"Me?" Charming repeats. He looks baffled, and Ruby shares the confusion. She can't remember this man, so he can't know Charming from his married life with Snow.

"You killed my family!" Anton says, trying to rise to his feet and failing.

"What?" Charming repeats. "I've never seen you before in my life!"

That doesn't seem to register with Anton, who manages to push himself to his feet and shove Ruby and Snow both out of the way before leaping at Charming, crashing both men to the ground.

"David!" Snow calls, as Ruby helps her friend to her feet. They can both see Anton attempting to choke Charming, but they can also see Emma.

"Step away from my father," Emma says pointedly, aiming the gun squarely at Anton. For a moment, Ruby almost thinks Emma is willing to shoot then and there.

Anton looks downright murderous for a moment, then reluctantly steps away. Charming coughs as Snow rushes to his side, while Emma keeps the gun pointed.

"He killed my family for gold and to steal our beans," Anton says darkly. He looks dead on his feet, but remains standing proudly still.

"No," Charming says, his voice hoarse.

"He pretended to be my friend," Anton goes on bitterly. "James..."

"He's not James," Snow interrupts. She looks at Anton intently. "This is David. James was his twin."

"You expect me to believe that?" Anton asks, staggering slightly and Ruby hurries back to his side.

"Hey, take it easy," she says softly. "You're dehydrated. We're going to get you to a hospital. We're going to help you."

"We are," Emma says, lowering her weapon and giving her parents a look. "And trust me, of all the stories I've heard in this town, the twin thing is the least crazy one."

II

"You two have a knack for trouble, you know that?" Emma tells them sternly as she walks into the waiting room, and David looks up at his daughter guiltily. "I hope it's not hereditary."

Snow gives Emma a pointed look before lifting the ice pack from his throat. He can tell from her look that it's bruised. Emma's face darkens slightly as well, and it's so similar to Snow's expression he marvels at it.

"I'm fine," he tells them both, and both look skeptically at him. "How is our ex-giant friend?"

"Dr. Whale is going to keep him for a few days. He would have died if Ruby hadn't found him," Emma says thoughtfully. "I wonder what Cora and George wanted with him?"

"He mentioned beans," Snow says equally thoughtfully. "Giants and beans."

"What, like in Jack and the beanstalk?" Emma asks. "Wait, you're going to tell me that one is real too, aren't you?"

Snow chuckles. "I'll ask Regina, and maybe Anton will be more open to questions tomorrow. But first I am taking my husband home."

"I'm fine," David protests, but Emma and Snow both turn stern gazes on him. "Okay, I'm fine but I'm apparently also going home."

Emma puts a supportive hand on his back as he gets up from the chair. He's too touched at the gesture to tell her he doesn't really need it. She doesn't let go either, and so he walks between the two women in his life and thinks the bruise was rather worth it.


	81. Chapter Eighty

II

**Chapter Eighty**

II

Present day

II

Emma leaves David in Mary Margaret's capable hands at home, then sits outside in the car for a while and just breathes.

Her family has a knack for trouble, she reflects. They seek adventure just by who they are, and they're far too willing to help others. Many might think those are good qualities. But for someone who has fallen heads over heels in love with this family (as she has to admit she has), then it's likely to cause gray hairs early.

She smiles faintly. She probably is no better, going to New York tomorrow just because Neal asked for help. Perhaps she'll give David and Mary Margaret gray hairs as well. She rather likes that thought, all things considered. Watching Henry grow up, watching David and Mary Margaret age – that wouldn't be a bad lifetime to spend. (And maybe watch for gray hairs on Graham as he ages too, she doesn't quite dare picture but the thought lurks in her mind still.)

But first she must find Gold. Right. Gold. Maybe she should stop thinking about him as the Dark One or the one who cast the curse and consider Gold the man. To find someone, it helps to understand them after all.

And Emma has an idea as to who might be able to help her there.

II

"Hey Regina!" Ruby calls as Regina walks into the diner. "The usual?"

She has a usual, Regina thinks. How unusual. Sure, she has habits, but she's never gotten to the point of having a 'usual' before – a habit others have noticed and cared enough about to remember.

"Yeah," she replies as she sits down by the counter, and Ruby brews up the coffee and then smiles. "I heard there was some trouble today?"

"Oh, David's fine," Ruby says. "Just a minor injury. I found a man in the forest. He calls himself Anton and said your mother and King George brought him here. He used to be a giant, apparently. We think David's twin may have done something to his family so he attacked David on sight."

"My mother brought him?" Regina asks and Ruby nods. "And he was a giant?"

"Yeah," Ruby says. She gives Regina a long, thoughtful look. "Any idea why your mother would bring him here?"

"I might," Regina acknowledges. Giants. Beans. Though there were said to be no more, Cora and George obviously found their way to this world somehow. Did her mother bring the giant to create more beans? Could they have a way for everyone to go back to the Enchanted Forest?

Would she even want to, Regina wonders. After the curse broke, Storybrooke has almost felt like a new start.

"You might want to talk to Snow and Charming about it, then," Ruby says after a moment when Regina doesn't volunteer anything else.

Regina nods almost absentmindedly. She takes another sip of coffee and considers the implications that magic beans would bring. They could all go home. Some of them could go home while others stayed. They could all stay. Or perhaps it would be possible to open a permanent portal to allow them to travel between Storybrooke and the Enchanted Forest and make the choice easier.

Maybe. But if would require a lot of magic, certainly more than she has. But perhaps not more than the Dark One has and she thinks of the dagger again. She's been unable to find it so far, but it is Rumpelstiltskin's dagger, after all. If it was easy to find she would know it was fake.

She will find it.

"Would you go back to our land?" she asks abruptly and Ruby tilts her head quizzically. "If there was a way to go home to the Enchanted Forest, would you?"

"I don't know," Ruby says honestly. "If Snow and Charming went back, I might. But there is so much in that land I want to forget. I killed my boyfriend. I was the wolf."

"I was the Evil Queen," Regina says slowly.

"You were," Ruby says, her voice brutally frank. "I watched all the things you did to Snow and to Charming. But if they can give you a second chance, so can I. And I know what it's like to be seen as a monster."

Their eyes meet in understanding. Slowly, Regina nods.

"I think my mother brought the giant here to grow beans," she says, making a decision. "Beans that would allow the creation of portals. It would allow us to return to our land – if we wanted."

"If we wanted," Ruby repeats slowly.

"Exactly," Regina says. "And I am looking for Rumpelstiltskin's dagger. It would allow us to control him. He would never harm anyone again. But so far I haven't had much luck."

Ruby takes all this in for a few moments, perhaps surprised at the amount of trust. But this is Snow's best friend, loyal to the Charmings without fault but certainly not without independence.

"How lucky you know a wolf, then," Ruby finally says, smiling wolfishly. "One who can track scents. Even the Dark One's."

II

"Hey babe," Tamara says and Neal looks up to see her leaning against the frame in the doorway.

"Hey," he returns, hoping his smile doesn't look as tired as he feels. "I wasn't sure I would see you again after what I told you yesterday."

"It was a lot to take in," Tamara says, walking towards him and sitting down on the bed next to him. "It's a pretty incredible story."

"I know," he agrees, staring intently at her.

"But I believe you," she says and he exhales in relief. She leans forward and kisses his forehead. He closes his eyes at the touch. "I would like to go back to this Storybrooke with you, though. I think I have to see it for myself as well, and meet Snow White and Prince Charming and all the others."

"Of course," he promises. "Emma is coming tomorrow to help me look for my father. If we can't find him in a few days, we'll go back to Storybrooke."

"Good," she says. "I can't wait to see it."

II

Belle looks like she isn't sleeping very well, Emma notices as she's let into Belle's home. Not that she knows the other woman very well, but the circles under the eyes and the general air of fatigue is still easy enough to see.

"Neal asked you to come to New York, didn't he?" Belle asks without preamble, sinking down on the couch. Emma takes a seat at the other end.

"Yeah."

"He said he would."

"Do you think he's right to worry?" Emma asks and Belle turns an agonized gaze on her.

"I _know_ he's right to worry. I know something is wrong."

Belle really loves him, Emma realizes. The tone in the voice gives it away as much as anything else. For all he's done, he still has someone who loves him.

"How do you know something is wrong?" she asks and Belle looks up defensively. "I'm not doubting it, I just want to know why. It may help me find him."

"Because I can feel him," Belle says, putting a hand on her chest. "The curse he cast required the heart of the one you love the most. My heart. He took it and gave me a part of his own instead."

"You have his heart?" Emma repeats, trying to wrap her head around that idea.

"I can feel him sometimes," Belle goes on as if not quite listening. "If I focus sometimes or if what he's feeling is strong enough, I can feel him. But all I've been feeling the last few days is pain."

Love is pain, Emma thinks distantly. Literally in this case. She hopes for Belle's sake the pain is worth it or will be worth it someday.

"I'm sorry," Emma offers sincerely and Belle finally focuses on her again. "I'll go to New York tomorrow and see if I can help Neal find him."

"Thank you," Belle says sincerely.

Emma nods, rising to her feet. "I don't know how this heart-link thing between you works, but if you feel anything that might help us find him, call me or go to my parents."

"I will," Belle says sincerely, looking thoughtful and as if an idea has occurred to her. "Perhaps if I focus more as well..."

"Just be careful," Emma says, knowing the words will probably just roll off like water on ducks. If someone told her to be careful when trying to find her parents or Henry, she would utterly ignore them, after all.

"Just find him," Belle says, her face bright with determination.

Water on ducks, Emma Swan thinks, but doesn't say.

II

"I've been thinking," Charming says as Snow leans back against his chest with his knees on either side of her. The warm water of the bathtub feels lovely against her skin, almost as lovely as Charming's skin against hers. Yes. A bath was exactly what they both needed.

"About?" she prompts when he is silent for a moment. He lowers his hands to rest on her stomach, drawing patterns across the skin.

"About the house we looked at," he finally replies. His breath is warm as it caresses her ear and she tilts her neck slightly almost as a reflex. He takes the cue and leans forward to kiss the skin just where her shoulder meets her neck.

"Mmm?" she prompts again, drawing a sharp breath as he sucks lightly on her skin.

"Maybe the yard is big enough," he murmurs against her skin.

"For the shepherd?" she teases and she can feel him smile as he moves his mouth up her neck.

"For the dad," he says seriously, and lifts his head to let his cheek linger against hers. "I haven't abandoned the idea of returning to our land one day. If not for us, there may be others who wish to go home. We can at least give them the choice. But until we find a way... We have Henry, Emma and this cupcake on the way."

"We do," she agrees, sounding a little choked up even to her own ears. She turns her head sideways to kiss him, her lips brushing his nose and cheek before finding his lips.

His kiss is far too soft and gentle even when she tugs at his lips, and she turns in the embrace to face him. He shifts position in response, lifting her up to straddle him and making the water slosh about in the tub. He smiles into the kiss as he leans slowly back against the edge of the bathtub and she leans over him.

The smile turns into a low moan as she brushes her breasts against his chest. He lowers his hands to her hips in response, with his thumbs caressing her skin. As she keeps kissing him, he moves his hands slowly down her thighs to her knees and then up again.

"Snow?" he murmurs against her lips.

"Mmm?"

"Are you sure...? I mean, you're pregnant."

She bites down on his lower lip in response and he groans before scraping his teeth across her lower lip in response. He probably remembers the conversation from her last pregnancy and how she felt about him being overprotective then.

"I'm going to be pregnant for a long time," she tells him sternly as she pulls back, cupping his face in her hands. He looks up at her with such reverence her breath catches.

"I know," he says. His thumbs press softly into the skin of her inner thighs. "And I am going to be your worrying husband all the way through it."

He is, she knows. He can't help it. She will tell him off for it again and again and it will roll off like water on ducks. He's Charming, after all.

"I love you," she tells him, kissing him before he can return it. Instead she feels the sentiment in how his lips caress hers and his hands move slowly up her thighs once more. Instead of moving down again though, he dips one hand between her legs and one to her back for support.

She moves slightly on his lap in response and she can feel him harden underneath her. He groans softly as well, but he gets his own as his fingers slip inside her and she moans. As he continues, she finds it's a good thing he has a hand on her back for support. Her head falls backwards and his mouth moves to her breasts and yes, oh yes. The still warm water they're sitting in adds to the heat that seems to be pooling in her body as well, and she feels wonderfully warm.

As her breath grows more shallow and rapid, she presses down on his fingers impatiently. She can feel him chuckle against her skin, probably at the familiarity of her reaction.

He lifts his head to look at her and she manages to focus enough to return his gaze. As he keeps his eyes locked with hers, he lifts his hands to her waist again and then lifts her up. He moves slightly underneath her and then lowers her onto him and she closes her eyes at the sensation.

"Snow?" he murmurs, brushing a soft kiss against her lips.

"Mmm?"

"Look at me."

She opens her eyes again to look into his blue ones. The expression in them is a familiar mix of love, desire and need, and yet she would be happy to see it anew every day for the rest of her life. She intends to, in fact. She's always going to love this man, want this man, have this man.

She keeps her eyes open as she begins to move up and down, and his hands on her hips help while still letting her set the pace. He just watches her, smiling at her pleasure while his face seems to shine with it. She digs her fingers into his shoulder, then drags her nails down his chest and up again. The water in the tub is sloshing up her back and probably a bit over the edge of the tub as well but she can't find it in herself to care.

"Charming," she pleads as her body keeps tensing, not sure quite what she's asking for but trusting him to know. He kisses her in response, moving his hand between their bodies and pressing against her. She whimpers into his mouth at the sensation, too much and not enough at the same time.

She leans against him as he begins to meet her slow movements with quick thrusts, and then clings to him as his thumb presses firmly and his fingers move lightly. It is finally, finally too much and her body shudders as the orgasm grips her. Charming has a good grip on her as well, keeping her upright and looking at her with bright, bright eyes.

"I think we made a bit of a mess," she murmurs as she regards all the water on the floor.

"Mm," Charming agrees, his voice throaty.

"And we're not even done," she continues, feeling him still hard inside her. She clenches her muscles around him and his eyes roll slightly back. His lips part as she lifts herself up and sinks down again, even if the muscles in her thigh hurt and will probably be sore tomorrow.

"I think I'm going to be done really – oi! - soon," Charming manages in response, his voice catching as she moves again. "Snow... Oh, hell."

This time she watches him as he thrusts up a few quick times and then his face seems to contort with pleasure. His lips part before he lowers his head against her shoulder. She can feel his heavy breathing as his chest rises and falls against hers before it slowly begins to steady.

(She could blame the pregnancy hormones for this, she knows, but truthfully it's probably mostly just Snow and Charming as they've always been.)

He exhales and pulls back, cupping her cheek and smiling at her. "We better clean up this mess before we pick up Henry at school."

"Mm," she agrees, kissing him leisurely for a few moments and caressing the bruise on his neck with her fingers. "We'll get a bigger tub in our new house."

"Mmm," he says, his eyes a little distant. He is thinking of their land, she knows. His home, the one he misses. For all he would be willing to stay in Storybrooke for Emma, for Henry and for the cupcake, he'll always miss their land.

As she will.

"I love you," he says after a moment, lowering his hands to her stomach again. "And you."

"And you," Snow agrees, putting her hands on his. Yes. Another child to love, another child to think of first, another child worth making sacrifices for.

And they will.


	82. Chapter Eighty-One

II

**Chapter Eighty-One ******

II

Present day

II

Focus. That's the key.

Belle stands in the middle of the room with her eyes closed and tries to focus. Not on herself. Not on her surroundings. Just on that steady, steady beat of the heart that isn't hers. 

His heart. His beat. Him. 

Pain. That's what almost makes her stagger and nearly lose her focus. So much pain in him. A raw, recent pain, a dull ever-present ache, wounds that never heal and wounds that are closed but hurt when thinking about them. And then there is the pain he seems to cling to as if to punish himself. 

So much pain. It overwhelms her and she sinks to her knees without opening her eyes. She can feel the anger in him too, feeding off the pain. And he is angry now too, angry at being helpless, angry at being caught, angry, angry, angry.

And behind that – fear. Such fear that she has to draw a shuddering breath at it. Pain, fear and anger, and they all feed off each other and into each other. He fears his own anger, he masks his fear with his anger, he fears his own pain, he fears...

_Her_ , she thinks sharply. Love. Not the pain of it, no. He embraces the pain of it as if it's a friend he knows well. No. It is everything else he fears. The power of it. The hope of it. 

The possibility of it. 

She clenches her jaw and manages to get up on her feet again without crumbling. His heartbeats are quickening in her chest and she focuses on that, focuses on something she told him once.

Do the brave thing and bravery will follow.

Be brave.

Dare to love. 

II

In the dark, Rumpel's eyes fly open. “... Belle?” 

II

“Rumpel,” Belle murmurs, getting a glimpse of the man leaning over him in confusion. Yes. She can see.

Then she collapses; falling onto the floor as darkness seeps into her mind like a fog. 

II

As Charming holds the hand of his wife and waits for the end of the school day, he can see Jefferson looking slightly nervous in the corner of his eye. Jefferson. Who broke into his home and could have harmed his family. Charming bites back an urge to go over to the man, counting sheep in his head to stay calm. When that doesn't work, he counts Snows. 

“How's your throat?” Snow asks, looking up at him. For a moment he thinks she might be mistaking his set jaw for pain, then he realizes that she's probably trying to distract him.

“Sore,” he admits. Snow lifts her free hand to stroke the bruised skin lightly and he feels his heartbeat quicken for a moment. “I wonder what my twin did to cause this reaction.”

“You're thinking about it again,” she says and he tilts his head. “What you said at Regina's. About wondering how you would have turned out if you had been raised by King George.”

“Yes,” he admits. 

“You wouldn't have been like James,” she says with certainty.

“How do you know?”

“Because of this,” she says, placing her hand above his heart. “You may have shared blood with him, but your hearts are different. I know your heart.”

“Better than anyone,” he agrees. After all, she has his heart. She smiles, and he slips his arms around her and looks down at her fondly.”I don't know if I can fix whatever wrong James did, but if I can help Anton, I will.”

“I know,” she says and tip-toes to kiss him. He presses her firmly against him with one arm locked around her waist and the other free to run down her arm as she puts a hand to his cheek. 

“Mom! Dad!” Henry complains and Snow smiles against his lips before they both pull away to see their son looking at them wearily a few feet away. 

“Sorry, Henry,” David says, bending down as his son walks over. “How was school?”

As Henry chats excitedly about his science project, David glances over to see Jefferson embracing a young girl as if she was life itself. The daughter, he realizes. Jefferson's daughter. 

If he closes his eyes, David can picture Emma like that. Young and bright and with curly blonde hair, so excited to see her father pick her up from school. He would have done it, too. Picked her up every day from school if it made her happy.

He opens his eyes again and meets Jefferson's gaze. Slowly, he gives the man a nod. Not forgiveness, exactly. But definitely understanding. 

II

When Emma gets home, she finds her whole family already there and working on dinner together. For a moment, she just watches the domestic scene almost wistfully (what would it have been like to have a childhood of days like this?). She can see David and Mary Margaret in Henry's facial features, but more than that too. He clearly mimics David, though if it's conscious or unconscious or both is hard to say. 

A father like Prince Charming, Emma thinks and then the man in question looks up and sees her. 

She smiles as he beams at her, nudging Mary Margaret. 

“Emma!” Mary Margaret says smilingly, walking over and giving Emma a quick hug with Henry right on her heels. “Just in time for dinner.”

“And just in time not to have to help,” Henry says, giving Emma a suspicious look she returns with the best clearly feigned innocence she can manage.

“Can't help my knack for timing, kid,” she jokes.

“You can't,” David agrees, walking over to take her coat and hanging it up. He gives Mary Margaret a slightly mischievous grin. “It's inherited, after all.”

Emma and Mary Margaret both laugh, as all four of them take a place at the table.

“How come I don't have it then?” Henry asks. He looks almost petulant.

“Oh, you do,” Mary Margaret says reassuringly. “You just have to train it. It's like fighting with a sword or riding a horse.”

As Henry contemplates that, Emma decides to just take the plunge and get her news over with. David and Mary Margaret already know, which leaves Henry and he's probably not going to be too happy about it. 

“Look, kid,” she says, sounding a bit faux-cheerful even to her own ears. “I'm going to head to New York and meet up with Neal tomorrow to help him look for his dad. I'll be back in a couple of days.”

Henry doesn't look happy about that, she notes. “You're having an adventure without me?”

“Can't always have all adventures together, Henry,” David breaks in. He looks up at Emma and she just knows he would come with her if he could. 

“You and mom did,” Henry protests.

“No,” Mary Margaret says softly and with a hint of regret. “We didn't have every adventure together, Henry. And we didn't get to have adventures with Emma until you found her for us.”

Emma takes a quick drink of water to keep her eyes from watering. Shit. Sometimes she thinks so much about what she might have had with them she forgets to think about what they might have had with her. 

Henry picks at his food with a sad look on his face, Mary Margaret putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing lightly.

“I'll be home in a couple of days,” Emma reiterates. “With Neal too. In the meantime, you have to look after David and Mary Margaret for me because they can't go a day without ending up in trouble or being chocked by an ex-giant.”

“Is that how you got the bruise, dad?” Henry asks excitedly, while Mary Margaret gives Emma a pointed look filled with a sort of affection mixed with annoyance that only parents looking at their children (or vice versa) can manage. 

“Yeah,” David admits with a sigh. He gives Emma a quick wink. “But I suppose going with mom and me tomorrow to visit the ex-giant in hospital isn't a good enough adventure for Henry Nolan, the New York-visiting prince.”

“It is!” Henry protests. He looks over at Emma as if seeking support. “And then Emma and Neal can tell me about their adventure when they come home and I can tell them about the giant!”

Emma pretends to take time to consider it, then finally nods and sighs. “Your adventure is going to be better than mine, kid, but it's a deal.”

II

“He woke up earlier,” Owen tells Tamara as she walks in. She gives Gold a quick, calculated look, but their prisoner shows no signs of consciousness now. “He called out 'bell'.”

“Bell? A bell?” Tamara asks. “Maybe it's important. Maybe it's just rambling.”

“Yeah,” Owen agrees. He looks at Gold, wishing he could tear the secrets right out of the man. “If Storybrooke has some sort of ancient bell or bell tower, maybe we should check it out.”

“About that,” Tamara interjects. “Neal is pretty determined to find his father. I thought he'd give it up given what the guy did to him, but I guess blood is thicker than water. He's having some sort of old friend come to help him look.”

“They won't find him,” Owen says, giving Gold a look of utter disdain. “If they even get close... I'd rather kill him than risk them saving him.”

“I know, baby,” she says softly, putting a hand on his arm. She can see the anger and the pain on his face, darkening it. So much pain and anger in him, she knows. And the fear, the fear of magic that she shares. “Maybe we can find a way to make them give up the search faster.”

“What do you mean?” Owen asks, looking at her.

“Neal's father abandoned him before,” Tamara says. “People don't change. If we make it look like that's the case again... Neal will let it go.”

“How do we do that?”

“Gold might be the Dark One,” Tamara says, almost spitting it out. “But he is also a father. We can use that.”

A father that took his father from him, Owen doesn't say. He merely saves the anger from that pain for later, for when he's ready to use it. 

II

The apartment is quiet as Emma quietly descends the stairs, feeling increasingly silly each step she takes. She can't sleep, not after Henry crawled into her bed to sleep there and then hogged all the space. (He's anxious about her leaving, that she can understand. A ten-year-old needing that much space, that she can't.)

She doesn't want to sleep, that's perhaps the main problem. Sleep means waking up to a new day and doing something she really doesn't want to do.

She doesn't want to leave this family again. Just briefly, yes, but she clearly can't trust them to stay out of trouble for even a day and although she knows they can protect themselves – she can't help but want to be there to protect them either. 

(And to just be with them, she doesn't quite think but does feel.)

So. 

She pauses at the edge of the stairs and focuses. Regina told her that it was love that fueled her magic, so it's love she has to think about now. Even though she feels something almost like terror at it, a dark deep fear born from years of abandonment. 

Love, she thinks bravely. Henry. Her son. She loves him. He's brave and bright and loving and hogs the bed and oh, how Emma loves him. Mary Margaret. Snow White. Her mother. She's kind and fearless and loving and a little pushy, and oh, how Emma loves her. David. Charming. Her father. He's patient and assertive and loving and has a bit of a temper, and oh, how Emma loves him.

The magic swirls around her in the room and then settles on each of them. Henry. Mary Margaret. David. Emma isn't sure exactly what she has done, but it feels as some sort of protective spell. 

It's the best she can do, at least, and she sinks down on the steps of the stairs as her legs almost give out under her. She feels weak, drained and for a few moments she merely focuses on breathing.

Then she quietly makes her way over to David and Mary Margaret's bedroom. She listens at the door first, making sure she can hear no particularly suspicious sounds. The door isn't locked either, and so she dares edge it open and peek inside.

They're sleeping. Mary Margaret on her back, David on his side with his arms clearly around Mary Margaret. They look peaceful and happy and she lets herself watch them.

“Emma?” David mutters sleepily as he lifts his head from the pillow and she curses herself as a fool for lingering too long. “Something wrong?”

“No, no,” she says reassuringly. “Go back to sleep. I was just getting a drink and... “

The rest of the sentence feels too stupid to utter, so she trails off. But it still seems to linger in the air unspoken.

David doesn't press her on it, even if she can see from the expression on his face that he's touched. 

“Goodnight, Emma,” he says instead, managing to get it to sound like a declaration of (parental) love. She takes a deep breath, then decides to just screw fear and be brave. 

“Goodnight, dad,” she says and his expression is almost luminous. “Goodnight, pretending-to-be-sleeping-but-can't-fool-me mom.”

David chuckles as Mary Margaret looks up indignantly, before her expression softens as she regards Emma.

“Goodnight, daughter,” Mary Margaret says and Emma nods slowly before closing the door. 

She might come to like being brave, Emma finds.


	83. Chapter Eighty-Two

II

**Chapter Eighty-Two**

II

Present day

II

This is going to be the last time, Emma vows quietly to herself. This is going to be the last time she is apart from her family for a long time. No matter what else happens, she's going to stay with them.

They've all come to see her off this morning. Henry, David and Mary Margaret all standing on the sidewalk by her car, all of them looking as reluctant to see her leave as she feels. Somehow, that makes her feel better, just like Graham sneaking over to kiss her goodbye earlier in the morning did.

"Take care," Mary Margaret says, managing to make it sound friendly and parental at the same time.

"I'll be fine," Emma replies. She still has the fairy dust Graham gave her for her last trip to New York; she's bringing it this time too. Maybe it will do some good besides making Graham feel better about her going alone.

"We know," David says quietly. He smiles at her. "It's our parental right to worry anyway."

"Not sure that one would hold up in a court of law," Emma jokes, then looks down at Henry's sad face and feels a sharp jolt of something. Worry is definitely a part of it though, a strong part. She has no reason to worry, David and Mary Margaret would guard him with their lives and yet...

Parental right to worry, she thinks, and draws a strong, shuddering breath to steady herself.

Mary Margaret and David look at her with understanding and affection alike as she takes one of Henry's hands in her own.

"I'll be back soon, kid," she promises. She intends to keep that promise, come hell or high water or whoever much Neal pleads. She's lost enough time with her son and her parents as is.

"Can we have another family day then?" Henry asks eagerly.

"Sure," Emma says, and she can see her parents smile softly at her answer as well. "Why don't you and your mom and dad plan it while I'm gone?"

"Our mom and dad," Henry says, as she somehow knew he would. She can see David and Mary Margaret exchange a bittersweet glance; it surprises her that she's beginning to understand their silent communication.

"Right," she agrees. "I'll bring you a souvenir from New York, all right?"

"I got you something for the trip," Henry says, and from the look David and Mary Margaret exchange, Emma knows this is news to them as well. "It's for your wallet."

"My wallet?" she says, wondering what he's on about this time.

"You don't have any pictures in it," Henry explains, as if it's obvious.

"Henry!" Mary Margaret cuts in, a touch of mom and schoolteacher both in her voice. "Did you steal Emma's wallet and look through it?"

"I put it back so I just borrowed it!" Henry protests. "Like you borrow dad's shirts in the morning sometimes."

"It's polite to ask first," David says sternly, but affectionately also. She has to learn that tone of voice, Emma thinks. Or maybe spending ten years with Henry and raising him makes anyone a natural at it.

"You should," she agrees, giving Henry a look. "But you're right, I don't have any pictures in it."

"Now you do," Henry says, and holds out a small envelope. She takes it and opens it, already having a fair idea what's inside it. And she's right; it's a picture of Henry and David and Mary Margaret, all three smiling at the camera. "Now you have a family so you should have a picture in your wallet."

"Yeah," she manages, hugging Henry to her and feeling David and Mary Margaret embrace them both.

Now she does have one.

"We'll get a new one with all of us when you come back," Mary Margaret whispers, and Emma knows that is a promise that will be kept – and a picture that will go in four wallets (eventually, when Henry also gets one) and not just one.

II

Belle's head hurts as she wakes up; it's a throbbing headache that feels akin to a hangover. Except she hasn't been drinking, and she isn't even sure if the vague pain is hers or his. Perhaps it's both, echoing back and forth between them.

She does remember the moment of seeing through his eyes. Just a brief moment of it, but a moment long enough. She remembers the face leaning over him and the anger etched into the facial features. Rumpel is in danger; that much she is certain of. Even if she hasn't managed to reach him again for all she tried last night, she is certain of what she saw.

She's even more certain of what she felt. He's in danger, and that might be a danger to them all in the end. She has to save him. Not just for him or for herself, but for all of them.

Now to consider what to do about it. Call Neal? Contact Emma, or if she has left for New York, approach Snow and Charming? They'll probably be willing to help if only for Henry's sake, but could they do much? They don't know magic.

There is one who does, of course.

Regina.

II

Snow doesn't like hospitals. She isn't sure exactly why – perhaps it's Mary Margaret's memories of spending time here volunteering that causes it, perhaps it's how often they've had to come here of late, perhaps it's her pregnancy making her anxious about it in general. Whatever it is, just walking through the doors to the hospital makes her reach for David's hand. He squeezes it a bit absentmindedly, holding Henry's hand as well.

Their son does look rather sad about Emma leaving still, and Snow can't say she blames him. She feels it too, already itching to send a text message to reassure herself all is still well with their daughter.

(Maybe waiting an hour will be long enough. Or half an hour. Yeah. Half an hour should be long enough.)

Dr. Whale assures them Anton is up and awake and can be visited, and he gives David's bruise another look as well. It looks worse this morning, which Snow knows means it's healing, but still makes her wince whenever she looks at it.

(She did do her best to kiss it better last night – even if it had no medical purpose, it certainly had another purpose Charming didn't object to.)

The cause of the bruise, their not-so-friendly giant, is sleeping as they enter his hospital room. He looks almost friendly like that, but Snow can't forget the sight of him choking her husband. In fact, she remembers it well enough to have a small dagger tucked underneath her jacket and she can tell Charming has a gun holster on as well.

(She is really, really tired of her family being hurt. Or being split up. She just wants her husband, her daughter, their son and their child on the way to all be safe and together; that's not too much of a happy ending to ask for, is it?)

"Are you sure he's an ex-giant, dad?" Henry says, sounding skeptical. "He looks normal."

"I was normal sized," the giant grumbles, and opens his eyes. "Now I'm tiny like a human."

"Good morning, Anton," Charming says as the giant looks over at them. "This is my son Henry, and this is my wife Snow White. I'm David."

Anton's eyes are dark as he regards Charming, and Snow fights an urge to reach for the dagger already. "You look exactly like James."

"He was my twin," David says calmly. Sometimes it amazes her how much the shepherd she loves so dearly can sound like a prince despite not being raised as one. "He was raised by King George, a ruthless king."

"And where is James then?" Anton hisses, but without any real venom.

"Dead," David says simply, just a hint of sadness that Snow thinks only she can hear. James may have been the son of King George in all the wrong ways, but David still regrets not getting the chance to know his brother, Snow knows.

"How convenient. You expect me to believe that?" Anton says.

"This town is full of people who will vouch for my identity," David says, still calm and collected. "But do you truly believe the James you knew would bring his family here?"

Anton's gaze flickers to Snow and then to Henry.

"Perhaps not," he grudgingly accepts. Snow exhales, feeling some tension leave her. That's a start.

"In time, I believe you will see I am a different man to my brother. Until then, all I ask is that you reserve judgment," David goes on.

"Were you really a giant?" Henry says, letting go of David's hand to approach the bed. "I'm Henry. I'm their son and grandson. It's a long story."

"I was," Anton says carefully. "It's a long story."

"Could you tell me that story?" Henry says excitedly. "I need a story to tell Emma – she's my birth mom and mom and dad's daughter too – she's gone to New York to have an adventure finding my other granddad and I need a story to tell her too."

Anton looks baffled, glancing up at David as if to confirm that this isn't utter madness. David merely shrugs apologetically.

"It's a long story, as Henry said," Snow offers. "Maybe Henry will want to tell you some of it after he gets his story."

Anton looks at Snow, then David, then at Henry and the boy's eager and excited face. For a moment, Snow feels the urge to reach for her dagger again, then Anton's expression softens.

"My name is Anton. My brothers always called me 'Tiny' because I was the smallest giant..."

II

There are knocks on her door that mean company, and there are knocks on her door that mean trouble, Regina has long since come to recognize. This one is trouble, but she opens the door anyway. (She's grown fond of trouble in a way, after all. It's like an old friend.)

It's Belle who is knocking, far more insistently than Regina would expect from the girl. But then Belle always had a strange sort of strength; such a quiet one that you could almost forget it was there. Almost, and then something would happen to bring it out.

"Miss French," Regina greets her guest. "To what do I owe this lack of pleasure?"

"Rumpel is being held by someone," Belle says and Regina raises an eyebrow. "I have his heart in my chest. I can feel him. Yesterday, I saw what he saw for one brief moment. I need to know how to do it again. I need to save him."

"And why should I help?"

"Because someone is keeping him prisoner. I'm sure of it. If they can subdue the Dark One, who knows what they'll do to us – or what they could use him for."

Regina pretends to give that due thought, even if she already knows the answer quite well.

"If they found out about the dagger and located it, that would be most unfortunate," she finally says.

Belle nods, looking pale.

"Perhaps it would be better if we found it first," Regina goes on. "I'll help you if you help me, Miss French. We find the dagger and keep it safe. Then we use your link to him to save him."

"I don't trust you with the dagger," Belle says, her voice strong. Ah yes. That strength again. Always coming out when it shouldn't.

But this time Regina suspected it would come. She won't try to break it; it will do no good. But it can be circumvented or even used.

"We'll find a third neutral party who won't use it until we decide where it's safest," Regina suggests. "Snow and Charming, perhaps? Or Miss Lucas?"

Belle thinks; Regina can almost see the conflicting desires of wanting to save her beloved twice over (from the outer danger he's in now and the inner danger that the power of the Dark One represents that he's always in) and yet not quite trusting Regina.

Finally, Belle nods. "Snow and Charming or Ruby can keep the dagger safe. I'll help you – and then you help him."

"Deal," Regina says, keeping her voice even and free of triumph.

"If it's all the same to you, I think I prefer we call it an agreement and not a deal," Belle says and Regina smiles faintly. "I'm not him. I don't make deals."

"You're not him," Regina agrees. "You're his heart, and I suspect that's a rather done deal when it comes down to it."

Belle says nothing, which speaks volumes. Yes. Love. It's a weakness, her mother would say. It's a strength, Snow and Charming would probably say and certainly demonstrate.

It's both, Regina knows now; depends how you use it.

II

After David-who-might-be-the-twin-of-James (Anton hasn't made up his mind yet), Snow and their son has left, Anton lies back in the bed and tries to think.

All his experiences with humans so far – being Jack and James – tell him not to trust these people, yet they've been kind and forgiving so far. The kid too, seems nice if very talkative. And they're all stuck here due to a curse.

They need not be, Anton knows. He still has the sapling his father gave him, one that he could use to grow new beans. Beans to return them all home, if they wanted.

If he could trust them.

He does want to. He's always wanted to trust others. That's the problem. Trust is a weakness; he knows that now.

Maybe there is another way.

Maybe he'll grow the beans himself – if these people prove trustworthy, perhaps he'll share them. If not, he can simply go home on his own.

Yes. He'll watch these humans and he'll grow his beans – and he'll wait and see.


	84. Chapter Eighty-Three

II

**Chapter Eighty-Three**

II

Present day

II

New York seems to be the place for surprises, Emma figures, which is why she's surprised and yet not when she walks in on Neal resting his head on another woman's lap.

_Oh_ , she thinks painfully and sharply. Not because she was hoping to get back together. No. She has Graham and years of hurt and anger over Neal leaving her to keep that from being very likely. But it still hurts that he may have found what they were going to find together with someone else.

It is the woman who looks up first, watching Emma with dark eyes. The expression is guarded, and it reminds Emma strangely of her own walls. What's this one keeping out?

"You must be Emma," the woman says softly. "I'm Tamara, Neal's fiancé."

"Emma!" Neal exclaims, getting up. He looks at her hopefully, but Emma doesn't have much reassurance to offer. All she has is herself.

"Yeah," she simply says and folds her arms.

"You don't look much like a fairytale princess," Tamara observes and Emma feels her eyebrows shoot up.

"Excuse me?"

"I told Tamara about the curse and Storybrooke," Neal cuts in and Emma give shim a very pointed look. "I thought she deserved to know the truth."

'And I didn't?' Emma thinks but doesn't say.

"I am not a fairytale princess," Emma tells Tamara, who raises an eyebrow in return.

"But you are Snow White and Prince Charming's daughter," Tamara says, tilting her head.

"Yes, but..." Emma starts, but trails off. Shit. She really is, isn't she? Every time she thinks she has gotten used to the idea, she thinks about it in more detail and it feels all unbelievably strange again. Snow White and Prince Charming's daughter. Huh. "They're not exactly like the cartoon versions of themselves."

"I'm sure," Tamara says and Emma wonders if the other woman actually believes all this, or if it's just humoring Neal. But if she does actually believe, that seems awfully sudden for someone so guarded. Despite all of Tamara's attempts to seem open and welcoming, Emma isn't fooled for a minute. "But you are their daughter?"

"Yes," Emma says decisively, feeling strangely proud as she does. "I'm Snow and Charming's daughter."

Neal looks at her with something she cannot and doesn't want to identify, while Tamara simply nods slowly – and Emma, Emma knows she's being measured. She just doesn't know against what.

II

"What do you think, Henry?" dad asks gently, and Henry looks at the house again. He isn't sure exactly what he's meant to be looking for. He only knows mom and dad said this house might hold a new adventure for them.

"It's nice?" he says hesitantly, and mom and dad exchange a look. They're holding hands, which is very normal, but there is something odd about them that Henry can't quite pinpoint. Dad keeps touching mom's stomach, for one thing. Maybe mom ate something funny.

"We were thinking about moving here," mom says, smiling. "What do you think about that, sweetheart? You and Emma and your father and I in this house. It could be our new home."

_Oh_ , Henry thinks and it's not a happy thought.

"But it's not a castle!" he exclaims, and mom and dad exchange another look.

"Henry," dad says gently. "What's wrong?"

"I thought after the curse broke we'd go back to the Enchanted Forest," Henry says. "That we'd live in a castle and I would ride horses and fight dragons be a hero."

"Oh, Henry," mom says softly, touching his head.

"Don't you want to go home?" Henry asks, and dad looks down.

"Home is where my family is," mom says softly. Henry can see her caress dad's hand with her thumb. "Where you, Emma and your father is. That's home, Henry."

"But it's not your kingdom!" Henry objects. Dad takes a deep breath, then looks up.

"No, it's not," dad agrees, putting his hand on Henry's shoulder. "Maybe one day we will go back and you will get your castle, Henry. But we don't have a way to go back right now."

"But you could try to find one!" Henry insists. He looks from mom to dad and back to mom. "You're heroes! That's what heroes do!"

"Sweetheart," mom says, crouching down. "We're also parents. We have to think about our children. That's you and Emma and... We have to think about you."

"I want you to think about going back," Henry says sadly. Dad crouches down as well, exchanging another look with mom before taking Henry's hand.

"We are," dad says softly, and this time mom looks down. "We are thinking, Henry. But we also have to think about Emma. And while we think – all of us, as a family - we need a bigger place."

"I guess," Henry says reluctantly. They're worried Emma won't want to go to the Enchanted Forest, he is sure. He can see it in mom and dad's glances at each other. But Emma is a hero too, she'll want to come, Henry is certain. He just has to talk to her.

Maybe they can even make a plan together. Yes! Operation Beaver – because beavers make really strong homes.

"So what do you think?" dad asks again, standing up and taking mom's hand again. "Is this a suitable home for Prince Henry and Princess Emma, heroes of this world?"

Henry looks over the house again, feeling a little more upbeat. Yeah, another base of operations might not be so bad. Bigger base of operations. He could make a tree house. They could camp out.

"Is it suitable for Snow White and Prince Charming, heroes of the Enchanted Forest?" he asks, and dad winks at him.

"With you and Emma – there will be no place better," mom says.

"No better place than where our children are," dad says to mom in a low voice, and touches her stomach again while leaning his forehead against hers. They smile at each other almost secretively before turning to smile at Henry.

Odd, Henry decides. Adults are just odd, acting like there is something kids don't get. Like he would think somewhere was home without mom and dad and Emma there. Like he would think there was anywhere better than with them. Like he doesn't know what family is.

He does; he has one.

"So the house?" dad prompts.

Henry gives it a long, critical look. It's not a castle, but it is bigger than their current home. It has a nice yard, even if it could be bigger – then he could ride horses there. It has a window by a tree so he could sneak out at night if that became his bedroom.

"It will do," Henry finally says; a royal decree, and mom and dad nod.

II

"So... Fiancé," Emma says after Tamara has left, and Neal looks up guiltily. "When were you going to tell me? Or Henry?"

"When I brought her to Storybrooke," he says softly, and Emma folds her arms over her chest. "She asked to come."

"Did she," she says. It's not a question, but rather a statement loaded with suspicion. He knows her well enough ten years on to spot that, at least.

"After what I told her about the town, can you blame her for wanting to see it for herself?" he asks. "Would you believe a story like that?"

"I didn't," she says, a strange undertone to her voice. "Took a dragon to convince me."

"What, an actual dragon?"

"Yes."

He blinks. "I see the fairytale does run in the family."

She gives him a slight eye roll, then he can see her switch modes as the expression on her face hardens. "So your father."

"No sign of him," Neal admits. He runs his hand through his hair, wondering if he's a fool for even trying to find the man he spent centuries trying to forget. "It's almost as if he doesn't want to be found."

"Or someone doesn't want you to find him," she counters.

"Right for the worst-case scenario, huh?" he jokes weakly.

"Is it?" she asks, looking at him strangely. "Isn't the worst case knowing he willingly abandoned you?"

He winces. "What do you know? Your parents love you more than anything."

"I know what it's like growing up believing that wasn't the case," she says, closing her eyes for a moment. "That doesn't just go away even if I know now that they do love me and wanted to raise me."

He remembers a few of their late night conversations about parents and abandonment, and how much he loved her for actually understanding. So few do. He does Tamara does, but he isn't sure.

"Yeah," he agrees. "But I don't think my dad will ever get that doing all this just to get back to me doesn't change the fact that he let me go. He doesn't get it."

"No, he doesn't," Emma agrees. "Which makes it all the more strange that he would suddenly vanish. I'm going to check if a few people I know still work at the NYPD."

"Friends of yours?"

"I helped them find a guy."

"Why am I not surprised," he says drily, and Emma almost smiles.

"I've recently learned that in my family, we always find each other," she says softly and Neal feels a strange sort of envy. They always talked about finding home, he and Emma. A Tallahassee. Yet here she is, having found it without him. Her Storybrooke. Her parents. Even her son, who is really their son though he hardly feels like he has a claim on Henry.

Emma's happy ending, he thinks. At least the start of it, and he is happy for her and envious at the same time.

II

David watches his son head upstairs to make some drawings of their new home and where the armory should be (since he insists they have one) with a soft smile, then turns to his wife only to see her frowning rather than smiling.

"Hey," he says softly. "Henry seemed on board with it eventually."

"He did," she agrees. "I just didn't realize he had his heart so set on going to the Enchanted Forest."

Oh, he thinks, lifting a hand to her cheek and making her look at him rather than the stairs.

"Can you blame him?" he says softly. "He wants the adventure, living the stories he grew up reading. And it is our land and he is our son. It is only natural he would feel a pull towards it."

"Like you do," she says, closing her eyes.

"Yes," he agrees. He does. He couldn't hide that from her even if he tried to, so he doesn't. She knows him too well.

"And if Henry wants to go and Emma wants to stay?" she asks, her eyes still closed. He wonders if she's imagining just that scenario from the pained expression on her face. "What do we do then, Charming? Break the heart of one of our children? Become separated from one of them?"

"No," he says. "We'll find a way. Maybe Emma does want to go after she's become accustomed to the idea."

"Or she may never," Snow says, digging her fingers into his arm. "And then there's us. If you want to go and I want to stay – what do we do?"

"Snow," he says, kissing her eyelids. She sighs softly. "I won't go anywhere without you. You know that."

She opens her eyes, smiling faintly as he draws his thumb across her lips. "I know that. But I also know I want all of us to be happy – truly happy. Henry. Emma. Our cupcake, whoever she or he will be. You. If we all want different things, how do we find our happy ending?"

"By finding a way that combines what we all want," he says firmly and she smiles a touch wistfully.

"If we can," she says, watching him fondly. "You always have such faith."

"You make it easy," he says, her eyes so brilliantly green as she meets his gaze. "I look at you and the love we share and nothing seems impossible."

She smiles at that, then links her hands around his neck and draws him down into a kiss. Her lips are soft brushing his, but there is also something almost needy in her touch, as if she is seeking reassurance. So he tries to give her that.

He lifts her up, and she uses the added height to tug at his upper lip while he swings her around slowly. Her body presses against his, and that, as well as the kiss, leaves him rather breathless.

"Mom! Dad! Come look at plans for the armory!" Henry's voice calls from upstairs, and Snow smiles against his lips.

"I do believe our little royal is calling," she murmurs.

"Can't ignore a royal command," he replies, stealing another insistent kiss before putting her down on her feet again. "Shall we?"

She nods, taking his hand as they walk up the stairs together to see what they can do to make at least one of their children somewhat happy – for now, at least.


	85. Chapter Eighty-Four

II

**Chapter Eighty-Four**

II

Present Day

II

The name that pops up on the caller ID as her phone rings makes Emma smile softly. It's long since stopped being just a name, and instead it's now associated with a whole lot of things that mostly involve enough sappiness to fill a Lifetime movie.

Hell, sometimes she thinks she's living a Lifetime movie – being found by her son, finding her parents, getting laid by the hottest guy in town, falling in love with a family... Of course, there is also the magic, the fact that her parents are fairytale characters the same age as her and the adoptive parents of her son, and there is also the fact that she had to take on a dragon.

That's not really like any Lifetime movie she's ever seen. 

“Hey Henry,” she says softly as she answers the phone. 

“Hey Emma,” Henry says happily. “Have you found Neal's father yet?”

“No,” Emma says, finding herself strangely touched at Henry's seeming faith that she will. “I'm at the police station now.”

“Oh,” Henry says. He sounds excited and a touch envious at that. “I talked to the giant. He didn't attack dad this time.”

“That's progress,” Emma says drily, trying very hard not to remember how she felt seeing David being choked like that. She doesn't have time for a Lifetime moment right now. 

“We also looked at a surprise,” Henry goes on. 

“Surprise?” Emma narrows her eyes automatically. She doesn't like surprises. She really, really doesn’t like surprises, given how many she's had of late. 

“I can't tell you or it won't be a surprise,” Henry says with the wisdom of a ten-year-old. 

“You can tell me what it isn't,” she suggests. She can hear Henry breathe as he mulls that over. 

“It isn't a horse,” he finally offers. 

That isn't much help, Emma almost says. But then she rethinks it. Her parents are Snow White and Prince Charming. They would totally give her a horse without a moment's hesitation. “Thanks, Henry.”

“Mom and dad are working on the surprise in the living room,” Henry goes on, and she has an image of Henry peeking down the stairs. “Except they're taking a lot of kissing breaks and mom's on dad's lap.”

“I'm sure,” Emma replies, now certain her son is in fact peeking down the stairs. She can even imagine what he's seeing, not quite sure if she could smile fondly or make a disgusted face at the image. “You can tell them I'll call later tonight, all right kid?”

“I will,” Henry says. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” she manages to say, suddenly not caring how sappy it sounds. “I'll see you soon.”

Yes, she thinks as she hangs up. Emma Swan: A Lifetime Movie is definitely in production, and she might even like starring in it. 

II

He can think, is the first thing that comes to Gold's mind as he wakes up. His mind is clear. He isn't feeling hazy and struggling to even focus. He can think.

He's also still tied down, he realizes, looking at his restraints. And leaning against the wall in the darkened room are Greg and Tamara, both looking grim and trying to look threatening.

So young, he thinks idly. So young and thinking the threat is in what you'll do to people. No. The real threat is in letting people imagine for themselves what you'll do. That is always much worse. 

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of not being drugged today?” he asks glibly. 

“We want you conscious,” Tamara says darkly. “You are going to call your son and tell him not to look for you. You're going to convince him you don't want to be found. Then you will do the same with whoever might come looking for you in Storybrooke, if there is someone capable of loving one such as you.”

“And why would I do that?” he asks.

“Because I am going to be there with Neal when you call,” Tamara replies. “And if you don't convince him, I'm going to kill him.”

“You don't have it in you.”

“Murder?”

“Yes,” he says. 

“I do,” she assures him. 

“Even if you do, dearie – do you have what it takes to live with yourself after?” 

“Yes,” Greg is the one to say. “Our cause is just.”

“So you keep telling yourself,” Gold says softly. “Over and over. Repeating it so you don't have to hear that little nagging doubt. You tell yourself it's justified. You tell yourself it's worth it. You think it's just magic that comes with a price, dearies? Magic just makes it easier to see the cost.”

“Shut up,” Greg says. He balls his fists. Good, Gold thinks. This one has a temper. This one has a weakness. Everyone does. 

“You will call Neal and get him to call Emma off,” Tamara cuts in. Oh. So Emma is on the trail. Gold has to hide a slight smile. The stubborn savior. Maybe she'll still save the day. Neal might be convinced to let it go, but Emma? No. Emma doesn't let go. Emma holds on. Emma Swan finds people when she looks for them, even if it may take 28 years and a curse. 

“Fine,” Gold says, making sure he sounds reluctant. “I will break my son's heart if it saves his life.”

Tamara eyes him, clearly trying to gauge his sincerity. But he has hid his true emotions from far more worthy opponents, from the whole world in fact. (Or all but one.)

“Okay,” Tamara says slowly.

Gold closes his eyes and lets one true emotion shine through – his grief at having to hurt Bae. He's hurt his son so much already. Now he must again – to keep Bae safe and Emma suspicious – and if Emma is determined to solve something, she will. He knows that. He knows her parents well enough, after all.

(He also knows there will be a price to pay for this too, but he thinks it will be Bae's heartbreak.

Any other price to pay doesn't occur to him; maybe it should.)

II

Belle's legs seem to give way under her, and she falls onto the pillows on the floor again. Her head spins, and her heart seems to thunder in her chest. They've been doing this for hours, and it's starting to drain her. 

Regina looks down at her, her face soft with sympathy for just one moment. It's still a moment more than Belle would ever expect from the Evil Queen herself.

“Well?” Regina says.

“I'm trying,” Belle says. She draws a ragged breath, trying to steady her dizzying thoughts and images. “I focus on the dagger and I focus on his heart and... It's all a jumble, Regina.”

“Focus,” Regina says, but not entirely unkindly. 

“I can't.”

“Yes, you can.”

Belle wants to shake her head, but somehow she knows Regina is right. She can. She can, because she has to. 

Regina holds out a hand. Hesitantly, Belle takes it. She stands up, closing her eyes, focusing on her heartbeat – his heartbeat - and reaching out through the darkness behind her eyelids. There is pain, there always seems to be pain in his heart, but it feels different today. 

Regina is still holding her hand, and it strangely seems to help. 

“Bae,” Belle says. “He's thinking about Bae again. There is so much... Regret, pain, grief, anger, love, loss... I feel...”

“Yes,” Regina says, her voice strangely young. “That is what it feels like to lose someone. The dagger, Belle. What does he think about the dagger? What does he feel?”

“Safe,” Belle murmurs. “Hidden. He feels... He feels clever about it, thinking they all look up at it not knowing what it is.”

“Hidden in plain sight,” Regina says thoughtfully. “Yes, he would do that. That would appeal to his sense of theatrics.”

“Time,” Belle says. She tries to focus on that fleeting thought, but it vanishes like mist again. 

“Time,” Regina repeats. 

Belle can only shudder. Thoughts and emotions suddenly slam into her, and she leans against Regina. “Me. He's thinking about me. I can... He's...”

The phone rings in Belle's purse, an almost ominous sound to her ears. She can still feel his thoughts so focused on her, and Regina eases her gently down on the pillows again before handing her the purse.

The phone feels cold in Belle's hands as she answers. “Rumpel?”

“Belle,” his voice says. The love in his voice seems to make her heart – his heart – beat faster. “Belle, sweetheart.”

“Where are you?” she murmurs. Her lips feel heavy and it's hard to form words.

“It doesn't matter,” Rumpel says. “Belle, I am not coming back to Storybrooke. My son has rejected me. All I've done have been for naught.”

“Neal loves you,” she says and she can hear his breath catch. “He went to New York to look for you.”

“He's a more honorable than I am,” Rumpel says softly after a moment.  
“As you are. I have done nothing to earn the love of two such as you. Belle, sweetheart... You're a hero. You're a beautiful woman who loved an ugly man. Really, really loved me. How you saw any goodness in me, I don't know. Perhaps when you don't see it you simply create it, as you've done with my heart. You make me want to go back. Back to the best version of me. So that's what I'm doing, sweetheart. I'm letting you and Bae go. You must let me go.”

“No,” Belle says weakly. She clutches Regina's hand almost as if it's a lifeline.

“You'll always have my heart,” Rumpel goes on. “I'm sorry for what I did to you. I'm not sorry for loving you. I never will be. Goodbye, Belle.”

“I love you,” Belle says. She hears his breath catch again at that. 

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he says, and with that the line goes dead – and Belle wonders why it feels like she's died too.

II

“Are you happy now?” Gold snarls at Greg as the latter hangs up the phone he's been holding to Gold's ear. He's going to crush that man, Gold decides. Grind Greg into dust, and grind the dust into atoms. 

“No,” Greg says. He holds out the phone again. “One more to go.”

II

Belle cries after she finishes explaining what Gold said on the phone, and Regina holds the other woman as well as she knows how, which isn't very since she hasn't been the comforter for anyone for a very long time. The last was Snow, she remembers faintly. Young Snow, who had fallen from a tree and came home with bruises.

She just held Snow then, and assured her the pain would be better in time, hoping it was true for all pain. 

If that is true or not, Regina still isn't sure. Maybe, maybe it is. If enough time passes. 

Time, she thinks faintly. Right. Time and hiding in plain sight. 

There's an idea. 

“I'll get you some hot cocoa,” she tells Belle, who just nods. Briskly, Regina walks into the kitchen and puts on the hot cocoa. (She has what seems like a year's supply in her cabinets, but if Snow, Charming and Henry come to visit, she wants to be sure she has enough.)

Belle's muffled sobs still sound in the living room. They'll die down eventually, Regina knows, and then Belle will stand up again and keep looking for Gold. That much is certain. Belle is a fighter, just not with weapons. 

Gold knows that too, which makes his phone call slightly puzzling. He did let Belle go one time. But Belle still decided to go back, and would have if Regina hadn't captured her. 

Gold knows that part of the story. It's strange that he wouldn't acknowledge that he can't tell Belle what to do. And give up on Bae after this as well... No. Not Belle and Bae both, not like this, not Rumpelstiltskin. He doesn't let go, not truly. 

Even if he let Belle leave his service, he still held onto her with his chipped cup and his memories, Regina knows from what she's pieced together or even spied out about him. Even if Bae was in another world, he didn't let go of his son either. Regina always had trouble understanding Rumpel's motivations back in the Enchanted Fores, but she's beginning to see they're all about Bae. 

And so, he wouldn't do this. Not unless he was dying and was sure it was the end for him – or he was forced to. 

If he was forced to, then trouble is coming, and she'll need all the weapons she can have. Yes. She nods, knowing what has to be done. 

She picks up the phone and dials.

“Ruby,” Regina says softly as it's picked up on the other end. “Meet me in the Storybrooke clock tower in a couple of hours. I have an idea about the dagger.” 

II

Neal can feel Tamara's eyes on him as he picks up the phone, expecting it to be Emma. 

It's not.

“Bae,” his father says, and Neal nearly drops the phone. It's not just who it is, it's how his father sounds as well. Old. Like 300 years really have passed and aged his voice. “Bae, I'm sorry.”

“Where are you?” Neal manages to say. “I've been looking all over for you.”

“I didn't want to be found,” his father says, grief lacing his voice. “When you left me here in New York I finally understood what I should have a long time ago. You don't need me. I need you.”

“You had me, papa,” Neal says. “You chose all that other crap over me. You let me go.”

“I know,” his father says. “I know what I did. I'm sorry. You're my son, Bae. Without you I'm just the Dark One, but you... You make me a father. And parents put their children first.”

Henry, Neal thinks faintly. The son he never knew he had, the son he wasn't there to raise, the son he's just starting to get to know. 

“You're just choosing something else over me again,” Neal manages. “Yeah, I dumped you here and pushed you away. What did you expect, a warm welcome? What you did to all those people just to find me... You took Emma from her parents. I loved her but I couldn't even look her in the eye knowing my father was why she felt like an abandoned kid. I've met her parents. They're loving people.”

“I know,” his father says. He sounds tired, bone tired. “I gave them Henry to raise because it was the best gift I could give your son. I could have claimed him myself. I could have raised him.”

“They should have raised Emma,” Neal says hotly. “Emma and I... We should have raised Henry.”

“I can't fix what I've done, Bae,” his father says after a moment. 

“I _know_. I'm not asking you to.”

“What are you asking me to?”

“I don't know,” Neal says, trying to shape the mess of emotions in his head to something resembling coherent words. It seems impossible. “Maybe... Maybe I'm trying to see if you would hold on this time.”

The other end is silent for a long time, and Neal feels Tamara take his hand as if to offer comfort.

“I'm sorry, Bae,” his father finally says. “I held on for 300 years. That's how much I love you. That's how selfish I was. I wasn't a good parent to you. Now I'm going to do the best thing I can for you, my son. I'm going to let you go.”

With that, the line goes dead and as for Neal, he rather thinks something else just died too. 

II

“That was quite convincing,” Greg says, and Gold watches him and thinks about the techniques of flaying. Yes. The skin from the muscles, the muscles from the bones, tearing the man apart. “I almost believed you.”

“That's because most of it was true,” Gold says darkly, feeling his heart contract with his pain, Belle's pain and imagining Bae's pain. “They make me want to be a better man, but you've just made me let them go.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?” Greg asks, all bravado like a mask. It makes Gold wonder just what is beneath it. 

“No,” Gold says. He looks Greg in the eye. “I don't need to threaten you. In my world, just knowing who I was scared almost everyone except the very brave. And look at you, keeping me tied up and drugged most of the time. You fear me already. I don't need to threaten you. I am the threat and you already know it.”

“You don't scare me,” Greg says, the mask slipping.

“I know cowards,” Gold replies calmly. Oh yes. He does know cowards. He is one. He is afraid, deadly afraid. 

And his greatest fear isn't this silly, angry idiot hurting him, oh no. That is nothing to fear. He's used to his pain, and nothing they could do could ever match 300 years of missing his son. 

What he fears, what leaves him so terrified he has to bring out all his Dark One persona to keep it hidden, is what these two might do to this family.

To Bae. To Belle. To Henry, and to Henry's family. To Emma, to Snow, to Charming. All the people he's held onto, even if he hasn't let them in either. 

That was what he lied about in his phone calls, of course. He's never been brave enough to let them truly go, just like he couldn't let the Dark One go. He's too much of a coward to face what he might be without them. After all, if he's not Bae's father, if he's not the man Belle saw goodness in, if he's not Henry's grandfather, if he's not part of the family at all, if he's not the Dark One – what is he then but dust?


	86. Chapter Eighty-Five

II

**Chapter Eighty-Five**

II

Present Day

II

Rumpelstiltskin let her go once, Belle remembers. He was a coward, and she called him on it. He let her go.

But that's not just his decision. She will decide her own fate. No one decides for her. No one. 

Time, she remembers. That's the fleeting thought she caught in his mind. The dagger and time, and she glances up at the Storybrooke bell tower and smiles faintly.

He might have let her go. Doesn't mean she will. 

II

David walks into the bedroom, and Snow gives him a quick glance before looking down at the drawing in her hand again.

“Henry's tucked in, but too full of plans to sleep at the moment,” he says, sitting down next to her and putting his hand on her back. 

She nods faintly. Of course Henry is abuzz with plans. He always is. He pours himself into them, naming them and drawing others into them. He's a planner, something she suspects at least partly runs in the family. 

Charming and his plans, she remembers.

“What's this?” Charming asks, tilting his head as he regards the drawing in her hands.

“Henry's plans for the house,” she says softly. 

“Ah,” Charming says drily. “So he didn't stop with the armory.”

“No,” Snow says lightly, feeling his hand stroke her back gently. It's a comforting gesture, and she suspects he can tell from her demeanor that not all is well. He's just patiently waiting until she gets to it.

“He's drawn upstairs too. Our room, his room, Emma's room... And a guest room,” she says, indicating them with her fingers.

Charming nods, his finger moving to the lines that she's indicated as the guest room. “I guess this will have to be a nursery instead.”

“Yeah,” she says, and swallows. 

“We've made a nursery before, for Henry,” he says, smiling fondly at the memory. 

“Yes,” she agrees, remembering those first days with Henry. Such agonizing fear of doing something wrong – and yet such an overwhelming love every time they looked at him. Their child. The moment they adopted him, he was their child and they couldn't have loved him any more than they did. “But we didn't remember who we truly were then. We didn't remember...”

“Emma's nursery,” Charming says, and she can see realization dawn on his face as he meets her gaze. “Oh, Snow.”

“I remember building that nursery,” she murmurs, as Charming presses a lingering kiss to her forehead. “We never got to use it.”

“We'll use this one,” he says confidently, but she can hear the underlying sadness in his voice. “And we'll make a room for Emma again, one she'll use this time.”

She can hear herself make a chocked sob, and he lifts a hand to her cheek to caress it. She leans into it, as always finding even a simple touch from him a comfort. 

“We'll make Emma's room,” she agrees, and closes her eyes as he leans forward and kisses her gently.

Yes. Emma's room, Henry's room, her and Charming's room and a nursery. Maybe a guest room downstairs as well, for visitors like Ruby or Regina. Room for all the family in their home.

And yet she can't help fearing that one of the rooms will end up empty, that yet again they're building a future only to find out it won't turn out how they planned.

II

“My friend's turned up no leads yet, but he's agreed to look for...” Emma trails off as she notices the scene she's walked into. Neal is sitting with his head in his hands, while Tamara is watching him intently.

“No point,” Neal says darkly. “I'm sorry I dragged you here. You can go home, back to your family.”

“What's going on?” Emma asks. Neal seems torn between anger and despair as he looks up at her.

“He called,” Neal says, and despair wins out for just a moment. “He doesn’t want to be found. He's not coming back to Storybrooke.”

'That's not right,' is Emma's first instinct, but she bites back the urge to protest. 

“Not even to Belle?” she asks instead, remembering the look on Belle's face when talking about him.

“No,” Neal says. He lowers his head back to his hands. “I called her. He had apparently called her as well. He's letting us go.”

Emma folds her arms, noticing that Tamara is staying very silent on the matter. “You're sure it was him?”

“I know my father, Emma. It might have been 300 years but some things you don't forget.”

“I meant, did he sound like himself? Not like he was under duress or anything?”

“I don't know,” Neal says tiredly. “I don't know if anyone could threaten him with anything.”

“He doesn’t have magic here,” Emma points out, still watching Tamara out of the corner of her eye. Tamara still says nothing. A listener, Emma thinks. Probably a person who makes note of what she hears too. 

Neal breathes slowly. “What are you saying, Emma?”

“I'm saying this doesn't feel right,” Emma says after a moment. 

“He let go once before,” Neal says bitterly, glancing up at her again. “I thought you'd be happy. You can finally return to your family.”

“Of course I want to,” Emma says angrily, thinking of David and Mary Margaret and Henry. The thought of returning so soon makes a part of her almost dizzy. 

“Neal told me about your son,” Tamara cuts in, the first thing she's said. Emma shoots her a glance. “About Henry.”

“Did he,” Emma says. It's not a question, more an accusation, and Neal looks up guiltily.

“Don't blame Neal,” Tamara says sweetly, taking his hand. “I overheard him mention Henry as his son and yours on the phone.”

Definitely a listener, Emma thinks. Hmmm.

“Yeah,” Neal says. “Tamara has asked to meet him once we get to Storybrooke.”

“That's David and Mary Margaret's decision,” Emma says, giving Tamara another look. 

“His adoptive parents,” Tamara says. “Also your parents?”

“It's a very long story,” Emma says, not bothering to add that it's one she's not keen to tell. Tamara seems to get the idea anyway, looking almost amused. “Neal?”

“Yeah?” he says, still sounding tired.

“Would you mind if I kept an eye on your father's... Disappearance, whether it was voluntary or not?”

“Do what you like,” Neal says, and for the first time, Emma can almost see 300 years on him. 

II

“He's been here,” Ruby says quietly and Regina nods, looking around the inside of the bell tower with a quiet sort of satisfaction. “His scent is faint, but it's here.”

The Storybrooke bell tower is slowly tracking time again now that the curse has been broken. The most obvious place in Storybrooke, and thus in many ways the most hidden. Everyone looks at it, such a familiar site hardly anyone even sees it.

Just the sort of hiding place a man who always hid himself behind theatrics would choose. 

“The dagger is here,” Regina says firmly. She walks over to the back of the clock, watching the hands tick slowly forward. Another minute has gone by, another measure of time. 

Carefully, she puts her hand on the hour hand. Ruby simply watches as she removes the back of the hand, and the dagger comes into view.

“You found it,” Ruby says faintly. “The dagger. The Dark One can be controlled.”

“Yes,” Regina says, pulling the dagger out and holding it firmly in her hand. “But by who?”

Ruby looks up sharply. For a moment, Regina can hear the faint echo of her mother telling her that power is everything. This dagger is power, so much power. She could bring Daniel back for sure. She could protect the little Charming family. She could make Rumpelstiltskin feel what it is like to be manipulated, she could... She could...

She breathes, then lowers her hand with the dagger.

“We will take the dagger to Snow and Charming in the morning,” Regina says slowly, and Ruby seems to exhale. “With them, we can decide what to do with it.”

She almost stiffens as she suddenly feels arms around her. Ruby is hugging her, she realizes, hugging her without reservation. 

“I never saw what Snow saw in you,” Ruby says softly. “She was so sure there was good in you, in the Evil Queen. I honored her wish to give you a chance because it was her wish, just like David did. But now... Now I think I see what she saw.”

Regina has no idea what to say to that. Oh yes, she remembers how they all looked at her after the pardon. She remembers the distrust and the anger she saw, and she didn't blame any of them for it. She wasn’t even sure she trusted herself. 

Ruby pulls back and smiles. “They all saw a monster in me too, you know. The wolf. Snow didn't, and then Charming didn't, and they made others see me differently too.”

“What I did was monstrous,” Regina manages to say. This feels almost like a sort of forgiveness being offered, and it stirs remorse in her more than any condemnation of her acts ever has. 

“Yeah,” Ruby agrees, not pulling any punches or softening the blow. “It was. Maybe you can never make up for it. Peter's dead and I can't change that. I have to live with that. You have to live with what you did. I'm just saying... You got a chance to start over.”

Regina nods, looking down at the dagger in her hand. She can still feel the siren call of power from it, just as her magic calls to her sometimes. She will always hear it, she suspects. 

She doesn't have to listen. She'll just have to live with it there, like everything else. 

“I did,” she agrees, and Ruby smiles faintly. “Thank you. Monster to monster, though I dare say mine was better groomed than yours.”

At that, Ruby laughs and Regina finds the noise strangely pleasant. Huh. The Evil Queen and the werewolf, forming something almost akin to friendship.

Whoever would have thought?

II

The phone is picked up on the fifth ring, and David sounds quite breathless to Emma's ears.

“Emma!” he says, and she smiles at his obvious happiness.

“Am I interrupting anything?”

“We always love hearing from you,” he says sincerely. So she was interrupting, she figures, but to them it is a welcome one. “How are things going in New York?”

“Gold called Neal,” she says, taking a deep breath. “Said he doesn't want to be found.”

She can hear David breathe on the other end, clearly thinking over what she's just told him, and how. “You don't sound happy about it.”

“I'm not. I don't believe it,” Emma says. She can hear how defensive she sounds, so she imagines David can as well.

“Why not?” he asks, and she bites back a defensive response as he continues. “I'm not doubting you, Emma. But if you can put your finger on why you don't believe it, maybe it will help you.”

She breathes, seeing the sense in what he's saying.

“It's not like him,” she says after a moment. “To go missing in New York so Neal would look for him, that sort of manipulation I might believe of him. But... This doesn't feel like something he would do willingly.”

David is quiet for a while. She can hear his breathing, slow and steady and strangely reassuring. “For what it's worth, Emma, it doesn't feel like something he would do to me either. I don't think I ever fully knew him as Rumpelstiltskin or as Gold, but from what I know of him... You may be right.”

“Thanks,” she murmurs, even as her heart sinks too. “I was thinking about staying in New York a day or two extra. I know you want me back home...”

She can hear him draw a sharp breath at calling Storybrooke and their place home, but he doesn’t say anything.

“... but something feels wrong here.” 

“I think you should trust your gut,” David says, his voice strangely proud and sad. “You know something is wrong. Go with it.”

“Even if it means we won't have the peace and quiet you and Mary Margaret are hoping for?”

He chuckles. “We might hope for it, but we've never been good at achieving it. I think your mother rather enjoys our little adventures.”

“Like you do,” Emma points out, feeling quite certain that he's no better than Mary Margaret. 

“You sound like her,” he says, and she can practically feel him smile through the phone. It makes her want to smile too, to hear her father claim she sounds like her mother. “Snow and I had a few together when we were taking back the kingdom.”

“You haven't told me that story,” she points out. She doesn’t mention that she has already read the full story in the book by now. Somehow, David (and sometimes Mary Margaret) giving her their story piece by piece has become something that matters to her.

“Right,” he says. “We hadn't gotten to that yet.”

“Tell it to me?” she asks after a moment of waiting to see if he'll suggest it without prompting. He has in the past, but this time he seems to want her to make the move. He might not push it like Mary Margaret, but Emma is beginning to see that doesn't mean he's not doing anything.

It almost feels like he's herding her forward rather than pushing her, in fact. 

“As you wish, Emma,” he says softly, so very softly. “It was your mother's suggestion that we take back the kingdom, though she weren't terribly helpful with how at first...”

From the indignant noise in the background, Emma is now sure Mary Margaret is listening in, as she had been suspecting for a good while. 

“How did she suggest you do it?” Emma asks.

“Together,” David says affectionately. Emma can almost imagine the look he must be giving Mary Margaret as he speaks. “And so we did. King George was a ruthless king and much of the kingdom was impoverished...”

Emma leans back and listens as he continues; father and daughter and another bedtime story, 28 years belated but still good.


	87. Chapter Eighty-Six

II

**Chapter Eighty-Six**

II

Present Day

II

Emma wakes early, getting out of bed with a determination that defeats even the urge to bury her head in the pillow. It might be early, but she has things to do today. A lot of things to do today. She's going to check in with the owner of Neal's building and see if any security footage might be tracked down, and she has a friend in a credit card company that she thinks might be able to help. 

And then, then she is going to find out who the hell Tamara is. 

Trust your gut, David told her. So Emma is going to, even if it means she can't go home right away.

Home. That makes her pause for a moment. David and Mary Margaret's little place has become home so quickly, and yet so strongly. She can even picture it if she closes her eyes. She can imagine their morning, how David and Mary Margaret are sleeping in their bed before Henry sneaks in, perhaps wanting a story or perhaps just company. They'll make breakfast together, David's famous pancakes and cereals eaten over many smiles and a few jokes. 

The images make her smile. Just another morning with the Nolans – and then they'll probably also run into some trouble as they seem to have a knack for. 

Must run in the family, Emma figures, and wonders just how much trouble trusting her gut is going to get her in this time.

II

David sighs softly in his sleep as Snow shifts closer to him. His arms press her closer in response, as if instinctual. She smiles faintly at that, blinking a few times while trying to sort out why she's waking up. It's too early, as the alarm hasn't gone off yet. 

When she hears the faint noises from upstairs, she quickly realizes what has pulled her out of sleep.

“David?” she murmurs and he makes a sleepy noise in return. “Our prince is awake and about to grace us with his presence.”

“Mmhmm,” he says and tilts his head towards her before opening his eyes. “Which one of us is to blame for making him a morning bird?”

“The farmer,” she says decisively. “Princesses are not morning birds.”

“No, they just speak bird,” he comments, giving her a teasing grin that makes her toes curl. She has no time to reply though, as the door creaks open. 

“Mom? Dad?” Henry asks, peeking his head in. 

“Come in, honey,” Snow says gently, and their son walks into the room and slips in under the covers, as so many mornings before. “Did you sleep well?”

“I missed Emma,” Henry says forlornly. 

“She'll be home soon,” Charming says reassuringly, giving Snow a quick look that communicates the same, and she nods faintly. “In the meantime, since we seem to be making an early start of things today, how about we make some breakfast?”

“With pancakes?” Henry asks, lighting up. 

“Always,” Charming promises seriously and Snow chuckles lightly as she eases out of bed, with her husband right behind. Pancakes. Of course. What would a morning be without pancakes?

They're forced to find out, as it turns out, when Regina and Ruby show up before the batter is even done.

II

“Neal is taking me to Storybrooke today,” Tamara tells Greg, her voice on the phone so low it's pretty much a whisper. Neal must still be sleeping, he figures.

“I've rented a cabin near Storybrooke. I'll drive our precious cargo over there,” he says, giving the 'precious cargo' a pointed look. Gold merely stares back with a slightly raised eyebrow. 

“Good,” she says, but she doesn't sound like it. She sounds... He isn't sure, but not good and not happy. 

“He talks a lot,” Greg says irritably. Gold smiles brightly at that.

Tamara sounds annoyed. “Don't listen. Drug him again if needed, just go easy on the dosage.”

“Right,” Greg replies testily. 

“Don't be like that,” she says smoothly. “I'll call you once we're in Storybrooke.”

With that, the line goes dead.

“Easy to see who is in charge of this operation, isn't it dearie,” Gold says silkily. It makes Greg ball his fists, fighting back the urge to get violent. This guy killed his father, but he can't get even for that. Not yet. Soon. Soon. 

And as if he knows what Greg is thinking, Gold merely chuckles and smiles again. It's not a pleasant smile, and Greg finds himself wishing he could claw it off the guy. 

“The dagger does another thing as well, you know,” Gold says after a moment. “If you kill me with it... All that power becomes yours.”

Greg stares at him. “Why would you tell me that?”

“I know a desperate soul when I see one,” Gold says. “It practically reeks off you. Not her, no. She's all righteous cause. But you... You're still a little boy, aren't you? You really think she'll ever let you have your revenge? No. She'll have too much use of me.”

“Shut up,” Greg says darkly. His head hurts. 

“You could take the power yourself,” Gold goes on. “Stab me with the dagger. Daddy's avenged and you're the one holding all the cards.”

“You're just trying to distract me,” Greg manages and stomps off. It makes him feel like a child as well, which just adds to the anger. Behind him, he can hear Gold's chuckles follow him.

II

“This is the Dark One's dagger,” Charming says quietly, but his voice is still filled with awe. Snow can't say she blames him. She feels it too, staring at the dagger placed on the table between the three of them.

Ruby has taken Henry to school, leaving Regina, herself and Charming.

“Yes,” Regina confirms. “It was in the bell tower.”

“You found it,” Snow says. Strangely, it fills her with something akin to pride. In Regina or for Regina, she isn't sure.

“Belle and Ruby helped,” Regina adds, and that makes Snow feel proud too. Impulsively, she reaches out and takes Regina's hand. Her step-mother looks up in surprise, then her expression softens.

“So if Gold returns to Storybrooke, we have a way to control him,” Charming says slowly. 

“You think he will?” Snow asks.

“Emma thinks something is wrong, I trust Emma, ” he says decisively, and Snow smiles at that. He would do that with her too, she remembers. Trust her opinion even if he didn't always agree with it. As he did with her opinion on Regina and the possibility of redemption. 

“If someone has taken Gold, they will want the dagger if they learn of its power,” Regina says. They all nod at that. 

“So what do we do?” Snow asks. “Hide it? Keep it on one of us at all times?”

“We make a decoy,” Regina says firmly. “We make a dagger like this, one they will come looking for while the real one stays hidden.”

Charming looks up at her. “How?”

“I'm the Evil Queen,” Regina says harshly. “I would take the dagger to control Rumpelstiltskin, to have power. Everyone knows it.”

“Regina...” Snow begins, but Regina ignores that.

“They'll try to take the dagger from me,” Regina goes on. “While the dagger will be safe with you. If Gold returns on his own, he will think I took it too. It won't be entirely without risk for you, I know that, but it will keep you and Henry as safe as I can manage.”

“This isn't just about making a decoy, is it?” David asks. “You could have just taken the dagger and trusted yourself to keep hold of it. You've never lacked confidence, Regina.”

Regina chuckles. “I suppose not. Yes, you're right. I could have just taken it myself. I considered it.”

“But you didn't,” Snow says softly. 

“I didn't,” Regina agrees, and what remains unspoken is understood just as clearly as if it had been spoken. “Will you do it? Will you keep Rumpelstiltskin's dagger safe until we may need it?”

David looks at her, and she sees in his eyes what she's feeling herself. Another responsibility put on them. Another possible danger. Another interruption to the quiet family life (that isn't all that quiet if they're being honest). And yet...

“Yes,” Snow says, and David takes her hand while smiling almost sadly. 

Regina looks as if she was suspecting that reply, giving a faint smile as well. “You know, there was always a sliver of Snow and Charming in you even when cursed. Perhaps even more than a sliver, given Rumpelstiltskin's fondness for you. Still, it is nice to see neither of you have been harmed by decades of Nolan meekness.”

David rolls his eyes lightly, but for Regina, that was practically a compliment, Snow knows and suspects David does too as he also smiles. 

“We've all been stuck in roles we may not have wanted for ourselves,” he says after a moment. “Don't you think so, Regina?”

“Yes,” Regina says, but it's Snow she looks at. “Maybe we can all be who we want to be at last.”

Yes, Snow thinks. She knows what she wants to be. Charming's wife. Emma's mother. Henry's mother. Mother of whoever is now growing inside her. Part of the extended Nolan/Charming family that also includes a step-mother, a werewolf adopted-in-all-but-name sister, seven dwarfs and whoever else they'll include as time goes by. 

“I better go,” Regina says, draining her glass of juice. “Will you keep me updated on Emma's progress in finding Gold? Despite his... Rather convincing performance on the phone to Belle last night, I find myself sharing Miss Swan's feeling that something is wrong.”

“We will,” Snow says, and with that Regina slips out quietly, the dagger still on the table. 

“Right,” Charming says, glancing over at her. “So, we have the immensely powerful object that controls the most powerful man in town and we have to keep it safe. Any ideas? Because I am open to suggestions.”

She chuckles, the leans her head against his shoulder as they both watch the dagger on the table, gleaming under the kitchen lights.

II

“Hey Ruby,” Belle says, sitting down by the counter. Ruby gives her a soft smile, and serves the ice tea without Belle even needing to ask. For a while, Belle just enjoys the comforting silence. 

“How are you holding up?” Ruby finally asks. “I heard about the phone call. Regina told me. Don't worry, no one else knows.”

“It isn't him,” Belle says defensively, but Ruby doesn't challenge it. She merely tilts her head. “I know him. He wouldn't do this. He'll come back.”

“I only knew him by reputation,” Ruby says thoughtfully. “In our world and in Storybrooke. The Dark One. The Mayor.”

Belle nods faintly. “He likes titles and reputation. It's nice camouflage. People see what they want to see.”

Ruby seems to think about that. “Do you think the part of him that is the Dark One – do you think that can be, I don't know, restrained? Kept under control? Like my wolf?”

“Yes,” Belle says firmly, and thinks of what she has to make sure of exactly that. 

II

It's amazing what a winning smile can get you, Emma has always known, especially if it comes with a minor bribe. And so, she is now looking at hazy, grainy security footage of Neal's building.

Gold enters. Gold never leaves. Of course, he could have slipped out another way, as the camera only covers one entrance. And yet, it only makes that feeling in her gut strengthen. 

Especially when Tamara enters as well. She isn't seen to leave either. Of course, she could be just checking if Neal was home and then left another way, and yet...

Tamara and Gold, Emma wonders. Working together to manipulate Neal, perhaps to get him to take his father back into his life? Gold is the man who arranged for Mary Margaret to be kidnapped just to keep Emma in town, after all. The man who cast the whole curse to get his son back, separating so many families in the process. Not much seems beyond him and yet... It feels off, especially with the phone call.

Could Tamara be holding Gold against his will? Perhaps with an accomplice, given she apparently was there with Neal when Gold called. But why would she go after Gold?

Hmmm. 

There are others who come and go on the footage, Emma notes. A couple. A man who enters and then leaves some time later. A man, slightly balding, that like Tamara only enters. An older couple. Emma secures herself print-outs of all of them, then thanks the guy with another winning smile and a more winning bribe and heads out. 

Well outside, she takes a deep breath. Nothing conclusive, but nothing that has reassured her either. And now Neal and Tamara are heading into Storybrooke, where her parents and her (and their) son is.

No, she doesn't like this one bit. 

II

In the field, Anton digs and then places his cutting lovingly. Yes. This is good soil. This is where his beans will grow, the beans that can bring him home – and maybe the others, if they prove to be good people.

He's so focused on his work he hardly notices the strange speeding carriage popularly known as a car driving past, carrying Tamara and Neal into the quiet heart of Storybrooke.

Tamara notices him, though. She is after all both a listener and a watcher, and she sees. 

She's about to see a lot more.


	88. Chapter Eighty-Seven

II

**Chapter Eighty-Seven**

II

Present Day

II

It is morning and a new day; a bight sunny day in Storybrooke as Neal and Tarama walk down the main street.

Storybrooke really doesn't like strangers, Tamara quickly realizes from the glances she and Neal are getting. But given the secret they all hide, she can't say she blames them.

Neal doesn't know the town too well yet, so he can only give her vague descriptions and only he only knows the real identity of a few, but it's a start. She can watch and listen. She's very good at it.

(She even started it last night, slipping out after Neal fell asleep – and she saw more than one thing that she found quite illuminating.)

The sheriff's car is parked at a corner, with the sheriff leaning casually against it while surveying the town. She notices that the sheriff is giving Neal a look that practically screams wanting to lock him up.

"Did you break any laws last time you were here?" she jokes. He glances up and sees what she's looking at, and makes a slight grimace.

"That's Emma's... Her boyfriend, I guess," Neal says, and she hears the tone in his voice. She does hear the sense of loss and even the hint of jealousy. She just pretends she doesn't and merely smiles.

"Not happy about her being out of town to do you a favor?"

"Guess not."

"I'm sure he can understand being worried about family," she says, patting Neal's hand in comfort as well. "Is he a fairytale character as well?"

"The huntsman," Neal says. She raises an eyebrow. "That's what Emma said."

"The huntsman as in Snow White and the huntsman?" she asks, making sure she sounds just a touch skeptical.

"Yeah," he says, glancing across the street. "There's Snow White."

"Hmm?" she says, following his gaze to see a couple standing outside what is apparently Granny's Diner. They're both holding coffee cups, but both of them seem too busy drinking each other in to drink the coffee.

"That's Snow White," he says, and she tilts her head. Snow White. A petite woman, with pale skin, a pixie-cut of dark hair and holding hands with her coffee buddy, who is clearly her significant other judging by the body language.

"With her Prince Charming?" she guesses.

"Yeah," Neal confirms. "They go by David and Mary Margaret Nolan here in Storybrooke. They're Henry's parents. And Emma's parents too. You can thank my father for that mess of a family tree."

The door to the diner opens, and a young boy practically leaps out. Snow White and Prince Charming – or David and Mary Margaret as she should address them with so not to alarm them - immediately shift their attention from each other to the boy, smiling in that way parents so often seem to. But it's the boy that makes Tamara gasp.

The boy. He's... He's the boy the home office has been looking for so long, he's... Henry? Henry is...? Neal's son?

"What is it?" Neal asks, and she realizes her mask slipped for a second. She composes herself and smiles as if embarrassed to be caught staring.

"I just saw you in him, that's all," she says, and the longing look Neal gives Henry at that would make her heart ache for him if she could afford that sort of sympathy. "Will you introduce me to them? I'd love to meet your son."

Neal doesn't look too thrilled at that for some reason, but he does take her hand and leads her across the street. David notices them first, his eyes narrowing at Neal, but not with outright hostility.

"Neal!" Henry says. He does smile at least, almost hopefully. "Is Emma with you?"

"No, I'm sorry," Neal says, and Henry's face falls. "She..."

"She'll be home soon," David breaks in. "She's just following every lead, like a detective."

"Like Sherlock Holmes!" Henry suggests, and David and Mary Margaret exchange a fond glance. "Does that make Graham her Watson?"

"You read a lot, Henry?" Tamara asks, and four set of eyes focus on her. She just smiles blandly. "I'm Tamara. I'm Neal's fiancée."

"I like stories," Henry says after a moment. He looks thoughtfully at her. "Are you going to be the evil step-mother? Because we already have one and she's no longer evil."

"Henry," Mary Margaret admonishes, giving Tamara an apologetic smile.

"It's all right," Tamara says gently. "I'm going to be Neal's wife and hopefully your friend, Henry."

The way David's hands linger on Henry's shoulder, Tamara can tell that the Nolans aren't entirely happy about this turn of events. Perhaps they're merely protective of their son, but they are also Emma Swan's parents, she remembers. And Emma Swan is entirely too suspicious.

She'll have to be careful around these two, Tamara decides. But on the other hand, spotting Henry means her entire mission here might change. She'll have to get close to him, and if David and Mary Margaret Nolan get in her way...

"Tamara and I will be staying at Granny's for the time being," Neal says, looking at Henry with that longing gaze again. David and Mary Margaret exchange another glance, looking conflicted.

"You could come to dinner tonight!" Henry suggests, either oblivious to all the tension around him or ignoring it. "Mom is very good at dinner. Dad's very good at breakfast. I'm hoping Emma will be very good at lunch."

Neal chuckles, while David and Mary Margaret's expressions soften at the mention of Emma. The pair exchange another look, clearly silently communicating before reaching a consensus.

If only she could teach Greg that, Tamara thinks. The man talks too much. Far too much.

"You should come to dinner," Mary Margaret finally says, and David nods. Neal smiles gratefully at that, while Tamara makes sure her smile is polite and not the triumphant grin she feels like giving.

Dinner with Snow White, Prince Charming and their little Henry, the boy that can end all magic.

II

Emma nurses her coffee while she waits, trying not to look as tired as she feels. She's been up and about all day, and her feet and back hurt. She really wants to lie down and wake up to someone else making her dinner – someone like Mary Margaret, or maybe even David. They would, too. They would take one look at her exhausted expression, order her firmly but lovingly to the couch, and make her dinner and hot chocolate.

The thought makes her smile softly as the door opens and her DMV guy walks in. There was a few parking tickets issued around Neal's building at the time Gold was there, and she's managed to use her winning smile to get the licence plates – and this guy has gotten her the names attached to them.

"Emma!" Don calls, sliding down on a chair next to her. "I heard you were out of the bailsbonds business.. I guess I heard wrong."

"You heard right," she says and he raises an eyebrow as if he finds that hard to believe. "This is just a favor for an old friend. I'm a small-town deputy these days."

"Emma Swan, deputy sheriff of a small town? Why do I find that so hard to believe?"

"Trust me, there are harder things to believe," she replies, but doesn't elaborate.

"Right. Here are the license plates you wanted me to run," Don says after a moment's silence, sliding the papers over to her. Copies of car registration details and a copy of their driving license as well as last known address – as always, Don knows how to deliver.

She glances over them, pausing at the second.

"Greg Mendell," she reads, and her eyes fall on the picture attached. It's the guy she saw in the security footage, she's sure of it. The one who entered and didn't leave. It could mean nothing, and yet her gut is firmly telling her that this, this is it. "Right. Thanks, Don."

"Found the guy you were looking for?" he asks, giving her that smile he thinks is charming and she lets him.

"I always do," she says and glances down at Greg Mendell again. "Runs in the family, apparently."

II

Henry is busy setting the plates, so David takes the opportunity to brush a quick kiss against the back of Snow's neck while she stirs the sauce. She sighs softly, and he lets a hand linger on her hip while he looks over her shoulder and pretends to be greatly interested in her sauce stirring. He can see her lips turn up at that.

"I didn't know you were so interested in sauces," she says, her tone light and teasing.

"I'm not," he murmurs. "I'm interested in my wife."

She smiles at that, leaning back against him just for a moment. It's long enough for him to kiss her earlobe, before she turns and puts a hand against his chest.

"You're distracting me," she says firmly, but her eyes are bright and warm.

"That's the idea," he admits, just as the doorbell rings. With a sigh, he disentangles himself from his wife and puts on a polite smile.

Henry has already beaten him to the door, opening it to reveal the expected Neal and Tamara. Neal Cassidy. David can't exactly say he's thrilled about the guy. Even if Emma hasn't discussed it much, she was clearly hurt by Neal in some way. That would normally make him want to find his sword, but then there is Henry. Emma too, seems to want Henry and Neal to get a chance to get to know each other, and for his children, David's prepared to play nice.

Well, nicer than he would otherwise, at least.

"Hey Henry," Neal says, and to his credit he does sound genuinely happy about getting the chance to spend time with Henry. "David."

"Neal," David replies, folding his arms.

"We brought wine," Tamara says, holding out the bottle. David accepts it, giving her a look. Tamara. Neal's bride-to-be, yet the look she is giving Neal is the sort of look he would give Abigail and she would give him – before Snow entered the picture and the carriage, at least. He knows the look of true love, and this isn't it.

This is something else, and he wonders.

"Neal. Tamara," Snow greets them, having walked over as well. "Please, come in."

Awkward dinner about to commence, David thinks and tries to summon some fake enthusiasm for Henry's sake. It could have been worse. It could have been a full extended family dinner, with Regina, Rumpelstiltskin, Belle, Neal, Tamara, Emma, Snow and himself.

Oh wait. Will they actually have to do that at Thanksgiving?

II

Greg Mendell's house is an old bakery in a quiet New York suburb, Emma discovers. It has an air of being run down, the brick walls chipped and discolored in places. There is also a garage attached, but no sign of the truck.

No one answers as she tries the doorbell and then knocking either. Greg Mendell doesn't appear to be home.

"He's not there, darling," a voice says and she turns to see an older woman smile at her. "He was taking some holiday up north. Maine, I think he said."

"Maine?" Emma repeats, her heart pounding. "Did he say where in Maine?"

"No," the older woman says. "Why don't you ask his girlfriend?"

Emma can feel her gut nearly screaming at her. "Girlfriend? Dark skin, long, black hair, far-too-pleasant smile?"

"Yeah! You know her?"

"I'm starting to figure her out," Emma says and reaches for her phone. Tamara and Neal were heading for Storybrooke, and Storybrooke is home to all the people Emma loves.

II

After dinner, there is hot chocolate for Henry and Snow, and wine for the rest of the adults. The conversation doesn't exactly flow freely, but not as awkwardly as David might have feared.

Henry helps, of course. He is all smiles and all stories, and Tamara and Neal seem to find listening to them pleasant.

As the phone rings, he smiles at the caller ID and excuses himself from the table. Snow seems to understand who it is from his reaction, and follows as he walks into the kitchen to answer.

"Hey Emma."

"David," Emma says breathlessly. "Are Neal and his girlfriend in Storybrooke yet?"

"Tamara, yeah. We invited them over for dinner," he says and Emma lets out a curse. "What's wrong?"

Tamara glances up, then closes her eyes as if in pain. Odd, he thinks, before focusing his attention on the phone again.

"Dad, just listen to me. Don't say anything. They're working together! Tamara is working with Greg Mendell, and they have Gold. I don't know what they're after but you're not safe around them."

"Emma," he says slowly.

"No, just listen..." Emma says insistently. "You have to get her out of there."

"Emma," he says again. "I think that's too late."

It is.

"I was hoping we wouldn't have to do it this way," Tamara says, her gun pointing firmly at Snow. He didn't even see her get it out, but she must have been carrying it on her somewhere. Neal is staring at her in horror, shielding Henry. "Hang up the phone, Prince Charming. Hang up the phone, or I shoot your beloved Snow White."

"Dad..." Emma says, her voice now desperate.

"I love you," he says softly. "So does your mother. We love you very, very much, Emma. I want you to know that."

"Dad!" Emma screams, and he closes his eyes in pain as he hangs up and the line goes dead.


	89. Chapter Eighty-Eight

II

**Chapter Eighty-Eight**

II

Present Day

II

A gun, a villain and her family in danger. Again, Snow thinks, and finds this the kind of déjà vu she would rather do without.

Charming steps in front of her, and as much as Snow wants to tell him off for it, she understands it too. She would step in front of him in heartbeat as well, but of course, he is thinking of the life growing inside her as well. So she moves to take his hand and stand just behind him. He squeezes her hand reassuringly, but all his attention is on Tamara.

"Tamara," Neal says. He sounds pained, something Snow can well understand. Realizing someone you thought cared for you has in fact only pretended to, that hurts. She knows. It's how she felt when she realized Regina was looking to have her killed all those years ago.

"I'm sorry, Neal," Tamara replies. She doesn't look at him, Snow notices. "This wasn't the plan."

"What was the plan?" he asks angrily. "All this... All this is about my father, isn't it? He didn't abandon me again. You've done something to him."

"He's done something to us. Magic," Tamara hisses. She sounds genuinely angry. "That's what it's all about. It's unholy. Do you know the damage it's done to this land? Do you know how much more harm it would do if we didn't fight it?"

"We?" David asks.

"We," Tamara says simply. "We've known about magic for centuries. This isn't the first time magic has come into our world."

"We didn't exactly come willingly to this world," David says softly, clearly going for an attempt at reasoning with her. Snow isn't so sure it will work. There is something about Tamara that strikes her as beyond reason.

"Right," Tamara replies. "The _curse_. Neal told me about that. Still, you don't belong in this world. You have the taint of magic all over you. This town needs to vanish."

"Is that why you're here?" Snow asks. "To destroy us?"

"It was," Tamara says. Her gaze flickers in Neal's direction. "Now I have another mission."

"Me?" Neal asks. "You want me? Take me. Let them go. Let Henry have his parents. Don't let him grow up like I did."

"Not you," Tamara says darkly. "Him."

Henry, Snow realizes with growing horror as she follows Tamara's gaze. _Henry._

II

The number on the caller ID is unfamiliar to Regina, so she answers rather briskly. "Yes?"

"Regina," Emma says breathlessly. "Get to David and Mary Margaret's. _Now_."

The desperation in Emma's voice is so palpable that Regina moves before the sentence is even finished.

"What kind of danger are they in?" she asks as calmly as she can manage, hurrying out the door.

"Tamara," Emma says. "Neal Cassidy's fiancée. She and a man named Greg Mendell have Gold, and she is with my parents right now. David hung up on me. He would never hang up on me. Something's wrong."

"I'm on it," Regina says. "Call Graham too. I'm on my way there."

"Thank you," Emma says. The line goes head, and with that, Regina moves as if lives depended upon it – as they very well may.

II

"Me?" Henry asks in a thin voice, wishing he could manage to sound as cool as dad. "If I go with you, will you leave mom and dad and Neal alone?"

"Out of the question, Henry," dad says, looking at Tamara steadily. "We're not letting you go with her."

"You're not taking him," Neal chimes in. He stands up, holding up his hands. "I'm not going to let you, Tamara."

"I was afraid you'd say that," Tamara says – and turns around and shoots.

Henry screams. He can't help it, he can't be a hero, he can't feel brave when Neal falls over and there is blood everywhere.

So much blood. Henry didn't know there could be so much blood in someone.

Mom and dad have stepped forward, he notices, but Tamara has swung the gun back in their direction.

"Come with me, Henry," Tamara says. "Or I shoot them too."

Mom and dad are looking at him with scared eyes, Henry realizes. They're afraid too. Maybe heroes do get afraid. Maybe he can still be one.

"Ye-yes," he whimpers, walking over. Neal groans, and tries to reach for him, but his bloody hand halts halfway there.

"Henry," dad says insistently. " _No_."

"Emma needs you too," Henry says and swallows as he looks at mom and dad. "Tell her I was brave?"

" _Henry_ ," mom says. She's crying and it hurts to see. He doesn't like it when mom cries. It's even worse than crying himself.

Tamara's gaze flickers from Henry to mom and dad, and Henry doesn't like that one bit either.

"Parents," she says almost sadly. "Don't know when to let go."

And then she does shoot again, two times in quick succession at mom and dad and Henry screams.

There is no blood, though. No blood at all. Instead, there is a strange noise, like metal striking metal, and mom and dad fly backwards into the wall as if struck by magic. The force of it slams them into the wall, and they fall down on the floor after.

"Mom! Dad!" Henry screams, willing them to stand up. He wants to run to them, but Tamara has a strong hand on him.

"What the hell?" Tamara murmurs, staring at them. " _Magic_. Oh hell. Wait, magic. Magic works in this town. Greg will have to deal with Rumpelstiltskin on his own."

Henry fights to get loose, as Tamara reaches for something. It's a bean, he sees. A simple bean in her hand.

"Neverland," she says and throws it to the floor. Below them, a green maelstrom opens. A portal, Henry realizes. Magic.

"Henry," Neal murmurs weakly, pulling himself closer. Across the room, Henry can see mom's eyes open and look at him, looking dazed and confused.

The portal swirls. Neal reaches for Henry and Henry reaches back, and their hands meet just as the portal swallows all three of them and mom screams.

II

She's going to go mad, Emma thinks. She's called Regina and Graham, and now all she can do is wait while her family is in danger. She can't even use magic here, she can't...

Wait.

Magic. She still has the fairy dust Graham gave her.

Gently, she pulls the bag out. Magic is about emotion, Regina told her. Emotion is not in short supply right now, that's for sure. She's feeling so much it's almost paralyzing.

Storybrooke, she thinks. Storybrooke, Maine. She needs to be in Storybrooke, Maine right now.

With that, she closes her eyes and drops the fairy dust at her feet.

II

"David," Snow's voice calls and he blinks. Slowly, he manages to focus to see his wife look down at him. Tears are streaking her face, but her eyes light up in relief as he looks up at her. " _Charming_."

"Snow," he says, sitting up and fighting back a wave of nausea. She almost falls into him, and he holds her gently. "Henry! Snow, where is..."

Snow sobs, and he draws his hand down her back comfortingly.

"Tamara opened some kind of portal," she manages. "I saw it, but I couldn't move. They all went in, Charming. Henry, he... He's gone."

"No," he says, not wanting to believe it even if he knows Snow wouldn't lie. "No."

Snow digs her fingers into his shoulder and he draws a few ragged breaths. He's crying too, he realizes.

"Charming," she murmurs brokenly.

"We'll find him," he manages. "We'll find him, Snow. We always find each other. We'll find a way. We _will_ find him."

The door bursts open and Regina storms in, magic swirling around her. She takes one look at them and the fight seems to go out of her.

"Emma called me," she says as ways of explanation. "What happened?"

"Henry's gone," Snow says, and Regina's face seems to crumple for a moment. "Tamara took him through some sort of portal. Neal too."

"She shot Neal," David manages to say, as Regina looks at the huge stain of blood. She glances over at them again, and hurriedly kneels down by them. He can feel the magic wash over him, and Regina looks outright confused for a moment.

Then she smiles faintly.

"She tried to shoot you two as well," Regina says. It's not a question.

"Yes," David says, remembering. "But..."

"It bounced off you," Regina explains. "You were under some protection spell. A rather primitive one. Not very sophisticated, but very strong. It protected you. Your baby's fine too, Snow."

"Emma," Snow murmurs in wonder. It has to be, he agrees with Snow there.

Regina nods. "Emma."

David closes his eyes, thinking of their daughter, their wonderful stubborn daughter who has apparently managed to save their lives without even being here. And while they are alive, they will never stop looking for Henry.

They will find him.

The door slams open again, and Snow gasps. He opens his eyes again to see that actually, their daughter is here. How, he has no idea. She looks almost wild, breathless and vulnerable as she takes in the scene. Her face goes deadly pale at the sight of the blood.

"Emma," Snow says. David helps her to her feet, putting a supportive hand on her back as she slowly walks toward their daughter. "Emma, honey, I'm so sorry."

"What?" Emma says. She looks at them, taking in their expressions. "No, don't..."

"Tamara took Henry," David says. Every word feels painful, but he grits his teeth and continues. "She shot Neal. They all went into some sort of portal. I'm so sorry, Emma."

"No," Emma says, shaking her head. Not just over Henry's disappearance, he knows. She loved Neal once, after all. "No, no, no."

Snow pulls her into an embrace, and after a beat, Charming embraces them both and just holds on. Emma buries her head against his shoulder and Snow puts an arm around him, and it's his family. His family, one member short.

Henry, he thinks painfully. _Henry._

II

Water, Neal registers. There is water and he is drowning and dying, and he can't see Tamara or Henry.

Henry, he thinks painfully. The son he didn't even get to know.

And there is his papa. He shouldn't have believed his father would have let him go again. Not after everything. He shouldn't.

Oh, and Emma. Emma. He wishes he could have had the chance to tell her that he did love her, that he never stopped. He was just a coward like his father and failed to face it.

He's going to die now, he realizes. He hopes Henry is found and saved by his family. He might even believe it. After all, they are very capable.

Suddenly, he finds himself moving upwards. Hands are grasping him, pulling him up and up. He gasps as he breaks the surface, dragging a ragged breath.

As he breathes, he can feel a pair of hands holding him, letting him float. He can still see blood, and he feels as if he may pass out any moment.

"Who?" he murmurs weakly.

"I'm Ariel," a voice says. "I'm going to save you."

At that, he does pass out, and the darkness is blessedly pain-free.

II

Regina makes them all hot chocolate (with cinnamon), while Snow, Charming and Emma sit on the couch. Emma numbly explains how she discovered Tamara and Greg were working together, while Charming gives a few more details of the events of the evening.

Every now and then he has to pause, trying to bite back the pain. They need to make a plan. He can't despair now. Henry needs them.

Graham hovers protectively by the door, as he has since he showed up. Every now and then he glances over at Emma, and Charming knows he must be exhausted because he almost finds it touching.

Snow slowly explains all she saw while he was out as well, and he holds her hands as her words falter.

"It must have been a magic bean," Regina says suddenly. "They're said to be able to transport people between worlds with magic. It wouldn't have worked outside of Storybrooke. How Tamara had something as rare as that, I don't know."

"Where did she take him?" Emma asks, her voice almost breaking.

"I don't know," Regina admits. "There are many worlds. Gold might have some magical artifacts that could help us find out. I'll look through his things. Belle might be of help. I'll bring her. Even if we find out where they went, finding a way to follow them won't be easy."

"Greg," Emma says. "He's got Gold and he's coming to town. He was working with Tamara, he might know something. He might even have a second bean."

David nods. "We can't risk Gold being controlled by someone like Greg either."

"He'll be heartbroken about Neal," Snow says softly. She looks down at her hands. "Losing a son..."

"We _will_ find Henry," Charming says, Emma looking at him almost hopefully. "She took him alive for a reason. He's still alive, Snow. We'll find out which world they went to and we will follow them there."

"We will," Regina agrees and they all glance up at her. "What? I'm not letting you travel to other realms on your own. Miss Swan can barely control her magic, and you two idiots have more bravery than sense."

David rolls his eyes, though almost affectionately. Leave it to Regina to insult you while deciding to risk danger and death for you at the same time.

"You don't have to keep doing this, you know," Snow says softly. "Risking your life to prove that you've changed."

Regina looks at her sharply. "You think that's why I'm doing this? Half of Storybrooke will always see me as the Evil Queen and the other half will tolerate me only to honor you."

"Then why?"

"Because it's your family!" Regina exclaims. "Because I..."

She trails off, the unspoken sentiment making David smile faintly. Snow looks close to tears again and he leans forward to kiss her temple softly.

"You'll need me," Regina says instead. "And the sheriff is going to be too busy mooning over Miss Swan to help you much."

Emma looks over at Graham, who has been silent through all of it. "You're coming too?"

"Yes," he says simply, and David decides he might be able to tolerate Graham as Emma's boyfriend after all. Might. "He's your son, Emma. And theirs. Of course I am."

"Gold might come too," Snow says. "For Henry, and Neal was still alive when the portal closed. Even if he lost a lot of blood, there might be hope."

"Gold might come," Regina agrees, and David knows she's thinking about the dagger. She might be willing to force Gold to come if it comes to that, but David isn't sure he is. But he is too exhausted to deal with that argument right now, and in any case they might not even need to have it.

Right, David thinks. The (former) Evil Queen, possibly the Dark One, the Huntsman, the Savior, Snow White and himself. When they find Henry, he'll like the story of how they all came together to find him.

Yeah, Henry's going to like that story very much, David is sure, and tries to take comfort in that.

And it will have a happy ending. All Henry's stories do, after all.


	90. Chapter Eighty-Nine

II

**Chapter Eighty-Nine**

II

Present Day

II

Nothing, Emma thinks and balls her fist as she looks over the mess she, David and Graham have made of Neal and Tamara's room at Granny's. There is nothing here, just clothes and toiletries and some personal belongings.

"If she brought anything to contact her partner, she must have taken it with her into the portal," David says, standing up and surveying the damage. Emma just nods. She can feel Graham's hand brush her shoulder lightly, and she fights the urge to lean back against him. She is grateful he is there, though, grateful beyond words.

(What all that means, and what his willingness to follow her into some unknown land, that she'll think about some other time. After they have Henry back.)

Mary Margaret enters the room, and they all look up at her. She has been following Ruby, who has been tracking Tamara's scent.

"Did you find anything?" Graham asks softly.

Mary Margaret just shakes her head, and walks over to David. He embraces her firmly, kissing the top of her head and whispering something Emma can't catch. It makes Mary Margaret nod and close her eyes, and he kisses her head again.

"She's been around town," Ruby says, coming through the door as well. "But her scent just leads back here again, and then to Snow and Charming's place."

Emma nods slowly. Her head hurts. Her head really, really hurts and all she wants to do is find her son, hug him and never let go.

Mary Margaret glances over at her and for a moment it's like looking into a mirror; two mothers wanting nothing more than their son.

"So we have to find Greg," Emma says darkly, and Mary Margaret nods. Maybe she won't get her hands on Tamara right away, but she can get her hands on Greg.

"We will," Ruby says, glancing over at David and Mary Margaret. "The dwarfs are going to keep watch by the town line."

"The town line," Emma says suddenly. "If Neal told Tamara about his father, wouldn't she tell Greg? If they know what Gold is capable of, would they risk taking him across the town line without some way of controlling him?"

David and Mary Margaret both look at her with thoughtful expressions, and she knows she looks very much like that when she's thinking hard herself.

"You're saying Greg won't come here?" David asks.

"He will," she says, feeling certain of it. "When he doesn't hear from his partner, he'll have to come here. But I'm saying maybe he won't take Gold with him."

"So you think Greg would keep Gold somewhere outside of town?" Graham says, clearly getting the idea.

"Yeah," Emma says slowly. "But close by."

"So that if they found the dagger to control him, they could bring him across the town line quickly," David concludes. He looks down at Mary Margaret and they exchange a look that isn't lost on Emma.

"We can't cross the town line," Graham says, as if he can already tell where this is going.

" _I_ can," Emma says. "I will. I'll find him."

"Emma," David says gently, and she meets his gaze with steel.

"Don't tell me it's too dangerous," she says. "It's for _Henry_. He's your son too."

"We're not telling you that," Mary Margaret says softly. "He's our son too, yes. But you're our daughter. You're equally important to us. Please don't forget that."

Emma forces back her tears. They mean it. Of course they do. And yet, it's so hard for her to get used to what having parents actually means.

"I'll try not to," she promises. It's the best she can do, after all.

II

Regina has never been one to break news gently, and she doesn't pull any punches with Belle either. And yet, Belle takes the news with a quiet sort of dignified sadness that almost, almost impresses Regina.

"He'll be devastated," Belle says quietly, looking up at Regina with teary eyes. "He did all this for his son, and now his son is..."

"We don't know where they went," Regina says. "There might be hope for Neal. There is definitely hope for Henry. We need to find out where they went."

Belle nods slowly. "I have all of Rumpel's keys. I'll help you look through his things."

"Good," Regina says, too tired to be anything but sincere.

"And Emma thinks whoever has taken Gold, is bringing him here?" Belle asks hopefully after a moment. Regina nods, then glances over at Belle as a thought occurs to her.

"How's your heart?"

Belle looks confused. "My heart?"

"Yes," Regina says. "Your heart. We found the dagger in the bell tower. 'Time', remember?"

"You did?" Belle says, but not with nearly enough surprise in her voice. It makes Regina narrow her eyes and regard Belle intently. Belle. Honest, caring Belle. But that doesn't mean she can't also be sneaky.

"We did," Regina confirms, watching Belle's reaction carefully.

Belle nods, as if accepting that – or as if knowing it already. "And it's in your possession?"

"No," Regina says, and this time, Belle's surprise seems a lot more genuine. "It's in Snow and Charming's possession. As I recall, you didn't trust me with it, but you were more open to trusting the Charmings."

"I honestly didn't think you'd give it up," Belle says softly. Regina shrugs, biting back the strange sense of pride she feels at knowing she did give it up. "I'm sorry."

"Maybe we can learn to know each other better," Regina says simply. She has after all thought of Belle as simply Rumpelstiltskin's heart for far too long. "My point is, you helped us find the dagger – using your heart."

Belle looks up at her, with dawning realization and hope on her face. "I can find him too. I can use my heart."

"Maybe you can," Regina agrees.

II

"She should have called by now," Greg mutters, staring down at his phone again. He can hear Gold chuckle from where he is chained to the wall, but tries to ignore it.

Tamara should have called by now. The last he heard from her was a text that she was having dinner with David and Mary Margaret Nolan and that she had discovered something she would call him about later.

It is later. No call. He's here, their 'cargo' safely secured just outside Storybrooke, but no word from Tamara.

"Maybe she's found the dagger on her own, dearie," Gold says. "Maybe she doesn't need you."

"Shut up," Greg says, but he can feel the words spin around in his head. It's always been him needing her. She found him, found him when no one else would believe him and told him she knew he was telling the truth. She's used him, yes, but he's never felt like she needed him.

"She knows you want to kill me," Gold goes on. "You think she'll let you? After she has that dagger, I'll be her little power toy for all eternity and you'll never have your revenge."

"Shut. Up," Greg says again, and Gold chuckles. Greg finally has enough of it, and stalks out while Gold's chuckles follow him.

Tamara wouldn't abandon him. She wouldn't.

Would she?

II

Waiting is the worst, Emma knows, and that's what they're doing now. Waiting for Regina to return. Waiting for Greg to be spotted. Waiting.

Graham has gone to get them some food from Granny's, so she's even waiting for him as well.

Emma isn't sure what exactly is keeping her up. Henry, maybe. The thought of Henry might just be strong enough to overrule any say her body has on the matter of staying up.

It's almost morning. The pre-dawn light makes everything seem devoid of color, and it doesn't help with the feeling Emma has of moving through a fog. Maybe this is how it's going to feel until they find Henry again, and the light he brings with him.

Her parents slipped into the bedroom to have a quiet conversation earlier before Graham left, but haven't emerged again. So carefully, Emma opens the door and peeks inside.

David is sitting on their bed, leaning against the pillows and looking half asleep. Mary Margaret is curled up against him with her head in his lap, actually sleeping, though even in sleep she looks tired and sad. David is slowly stroking her head,every now and then glancing down at her with infinite tenderness.

Then David seems to become aware of Emma's presence, and looks up at her with the same tenderness. It makes her swallow, but she doesn't look away.

Quietly, she moves into the room and sits down on the other side of him. She feels tired to her very bones, and knows he must too, yet he moves his free arm around her and draws her gently against him without disturbing Mary Margaret.

They sit like that in silence for a while, Emma feeling the presence of her parents strangely strengthening. It reminds her that she isn't alone, that she doesn't have to do this alone.

"You saved us, you know," David murmurs, sounding tired. "Those shots Tamara fired at us would probably have killed us."

"Oh," Emma says. She doesn't want to imagine how she would have felt losing them, so she forces those thoughts back as far and as firmly as she can. They're safe now, that's all that matters.

"Did you know you did it?" he asks, looking down at her.

"Yeah," she admits. "I did the night before I left for New York. I just... Thought about keeping you safe."

"Oh," David says. He looks at her again, and then he kisses the side of her head so gently it makes her draw a sharp breath.

"I put it on Henry too," she says after a moment. "Maybe it'll... Maybe it will keep him safe wherever he is."

"Yeah," David says quietly. "Thank you. For the protection, but mostly just... For everything you are. We love you so much, Emma."

Emma can feel herself cry choked sobs against his shoulder. It's the fatigue, really. She's too tired to put up walls, too tired to keep the grief and fear over Henry's kidnapping at bay anymore, too tired to pretend that what David is saying isn't something she's wanted to hear from her parents her whole life and yet never thought she would.

"I'm such a mess," she manages to say.

"No," David says firmly. He smiles at her through his own tears. "You're just as lovely as your mother."

He looks down at Mary Margaret, caressing her cheek with his thumb. His gaze is so loving, as it always is, but Emma doesn't look away this time. She just follows his gaze and looks at Mary Margaret too, maybe even just as lovingly.

"Is she going to stop pretending she's sleeping soon, you think?" he asks and Emma can't help but laugh despite everything. Mary Margaret makes a noise as well, and then lifts her head to look at him almost indignantly, though not without losing the sadness in her eyes.

"You're a very bad pretend sleeper," David says fondly and Mary Margaret smiles through her tears. "Always have been."

"Yeah," Emma agrees, as Mary Margaret leans forward and lovingly strokes the tears from Emma's cheek before nestling back against David. "You really are, mom. Henry is too."

"Yeah, Henry. Sunday nights, he always..."David says, trailing off.

"Yes," Mary Margaret says, as if she knows what he's talking about – but then, she probably does.

The two seem lost in memories for a moment, an Emma feels the tiny spark of jealousy that she suspects will always be there – because her parents got ten years with her son that she didn't, and because her son got raised by her parents and she didn't.

"Emma," Regina says, and Emma looks up to see that Regina is standing in the doorway. How long she's been there, Emma doesn't know, but judging by the soft expression on Regina's face, it may have been a while.

"Regina," Snow says hopefully. "Did you find anything?"

"We might have," Regina says, giving Snow a faint comforting smile. "We brought back a few magical items I think we might be able to use. I also had an idea about how to find Gold."

Emma sits up, feeling David's hand on her back as she does. "How?"

"Me," Belle says, stepping forward. She meets Emma's gaze. "I have his heart. I can _feel_ him. He's close."

"Then Greg is too," Emma says slowly, forcing herself to get off the bed and stand up, no matter how much her brain tells her she needs sleep. Behind her, she can feel David and Mary Margaret get up as well.

Despite the fatigue, she can feel the outline of a plan buzzing in her head. The others will subdue Greg in town. She'll find Gold outside of town, with Belle's help. Maybe there's even a way Belle can come with her, some sort of spell to keep her memories while crossing the town line. Regina can help with that. It's a sort of plan at least.

Henry would probably insist she give it some sort of cool name, so she quietly dubs it Operation Bear in her head. Because mama bears (and in this case, also an equally fierce papa bear) protect their cubs.

"Emma?" David asks softly, stepping in front of her with Mary Margaret's hand clasped firmly in his.

"Yeah," she says briskly, realizing she must have looked lost in thought for a moment. "Right. We'll call this Operation Bear."

Mary Margaret draws a sharp breath, and David looks utterly heartbroken for a moment. They both know Henry's habit of naming his operations after animals, after all, so Emma knows the gesture is not lost on them.

"Operation Bear," Mary Margaret says, her voice chocked but her eyes almost bright. "That's a good name, Emma."

"That's a very good name," David agrees. "Operation Bear it is."


	91. Chapter Ninety

II

**Chapter Ninety**

II

Present Day

II

Snow clings to her daughter, and Emma hugs her back just as fiercely. That hasn't happened before, and even in all the sadness Snow draws some strength from that.

"Be careful," she murmurs, unable to help it. It is about as silly as asking Charming to be careful, she knows, or Charming asking her to be careful.

"Yes, _mom_ ," Emma replies, half in jest and half in reassurance. Snow pulls back reluctantly, smiling sadly. "Keep an eye out for Greg."

"We will," David says, pulling Emma into a hug as well. Snow can see him close his eyes, and just for a moment she imagines he finds himself just enjoying hugging his daughter and forgetting why. Then he too, smiles sadly and pulls back.

Emma smiles at him, before turning to Belle and Regina. "Ready?"

"Ready," Belle says, nodding several times and looking quietly determined. Snow gives her a grateful look, one which Belle returns with a soft smile. Then she follows Emma to the yellow car.

"I'll see them to the town line and then come back," Regina says to Snow, and Snow nods. She wishes she could go with them, but Regina could only make enough of the potion designed to keep their memories for one, and that needs to be Belle. It's Belle who can feel Gold's presence, after all.

As Regina's car drives off and Emma's follows, Charming takes her hand and looks at her. "You look exhausted."

"I am," she admits, and he pulls her closer so she can lean against him. "I can't sleep, Charming. Henry's..."

"Shh," he murmurs, but she can hear the agony in his voice and knows he's feeling Henry's disappearance as much as she is. "I know, Snow. But Graham brought us some food and a shower might help. You'll be no good to Henry dead on your feet, and our little cupcake needs you even more. We need to be strong for this, Snow."

Snow exhales, then nods faintly. Charming kisses her temple and with a hand around her waist, walks them both inside. The food Graham brought is still on the dining table, and she sits down to eat without protest. Charming goes to find a change of clothing for them both before joining her, and it's not lost on her how exhausted he looks either.

As she eats, Snow isn't even sure what it is, just that it is warm. It does seem to help though, clearing her head and giving her some strength. It's easier to walk as Charming takes her hand and leads her to the bathroom.

Her fingers feel clumsy as she sheds her clothing, shivering as she steps into the shower and turns on the water. It's warm, blessedly warm as it soaks her and Charming steps in with her. She can hear him put Rumpelstiltskin's dagger down on the tiles, never keeping it far from them. She turns to face him, watching his intent expression as he lathers her with the soap, then himself while the water washes it off her.

"Charming," she murmurs, biting her lip as the rest of it becomes too painful to say. She might even be crying again, she isn't sure. He leans down and kisses her gently, brushing his lips against her. She links her hands around his neck as he links his behind her back.

"We will find him," he whispers against her lips, as always the one with so much faith. She nods, needing to believe him. She can't believe they've lost their son or she'll feel utterly lost too.

They hold each other for a few moments longer, kissing gently under the water. Eventually, she turns off the shower while he finds towels. They dry each other and get dressed, and it's not lost on Snow that Charming has brought rather practical clothing for them both, as well as belts.

It makes her rather sure she knows what's coming next, as he leads her into their bedroom. The bag he pulls out of the closet is familiar, and just as she suspects, it's their weapons. His sword and dagger, her daggers, her bow and arrows and even a sword she doesn't recognize.

She touches it lightly. "What's this?"

"I got it for Emma," he says, holding it up. "I thought maybe... She liked our family day. I was going to get a smaller, less sharp sword for Henry."

She swallows. "Henry would have loved that."

Charming nods slowly, then holds out her sheathed daggers. She fastens them to her belt as he straps his sword on and puts Rumpelstiltskin's dagger in his boot, then hands her the quiver to her bow and helps her fasten it.

Almost like the old days, she reflects, remembering so many times they've done something similar in their land. This is starting to feel strangely like a ritual, almost like washing away David and Mary Margaret. Like putting on Snow and Charming, truly putting them on.

He cups her cheek in his hand after they're both armed, stroking his thumb across her cheekbone. Whatever he sees in her face, makes him smile – the first genuine smile she's seen on him since Henry was taken.

" _Snow_ ," he says, and she nods, then nods again with more vigor. She kisses him firmly as he takes her hand, while she takes her bow in her other hand.

They're going to need to be Snow and Charming now, after all.

II

"You do know there is a chance this won't work?" Regina asks Belle, while Emma looks at them both with barely restrained impatience.

"Yes," Belle says, her voice steady. "I'm willing to risk it. For Rumpel, and for Henry."

"Just making sure," Regina murmurs, holding up the potion. Belle holds out the item they've chosen, a piece of the dress that Rumpel first gave her and that was in his shop, and Regina carefully splashes the potion on. "Now wear it."

Belle nods, wrapping it around her like a scarf. "And now?"

"Now you step over the line," Regina says, looking at the town line that Emma has already crossed.

Belle nods again. She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and steps over. Regina finds herself holding her breath, wondering just when she started caring about Rumpelstiltskin's girlfriend as well.

"Belle?" Emma asks. "Are you..."

"I'm Belle, daughter of Maurice. Rumpelstiltskin took my heart and gave me his," Belle says, opening her eyes. "I remember."

Emma exhales. "Good. Where is Gold?"

Belle closes her eyes again, but in concentration this time. Slowly, she lifts her hand. "That way."

"All right," Emma says softly. "I'll drive, you'll be the... Compass, GPS, whatever. Regina?"

"I'll return to town, keep an eye on your parents," Regina says, looking at Emma softly. So very much Snow and Charming's daughter. It makes it impossible not to care. "Emma, be careful. If anything happens to you, it will devastate them."

Emma looks at her, all walls and even moats, then her eyes soften for just a moment. "Yeah. I know."

With that, Emma and Belle get into Emma's car and drive off, leaving Regina to look after them. As much as a part of her would like to never see Gold again – given all he's done to her life, to all their lives – they may need him to find Henry. And finding Henry matters more than any revenge.

Sighing, she turns to her car. Henry. With all her focus on Snow and Charming's grief and helping them, she's barely had time to consider what she's lost too. Little Henry, named after her father. Loving, caring Henry, taking his family with him on a sleepover because she felt sad.

She blinks the tears away, getting into the car and driving towards Storybrooke. Not to Snow and Charming's right away, though. A sudden urge to see the other Henry in her life has come over her, and so she parks by the cemetery.

It's still early and she can only see one other person there, walking slowly down the path and looking at the graves. She finds the one she is looking for soon enough. Henry Mills, a brand new grave. Yet there are flowers there, a bouquet of snowdrops placed next to the stone.

Snow has been here, Regina realizes and smiles slightly. Of course.

"I think you would be proud of me," she murmurs, pressing her forehead against the stone. It feels like such a long time ago that he begged her to make a fresh start, and she can't imagine where she would be if she hadn't. Or who. Someone far lonelier and far more unhappy, she imagines.

"Excuse me, do you know if there's a grave here for a man called Kurt Flynn? Or maybe a John Doe?" a voice asks, and she looks up to see the man from Emma's pictures.

Greg Mendell is looking down at her, his eye widening as he notices her reaction. Before she can even lift her hands, something cold snaps onto her wrists and there is no magic. No magic at all.

"You must be the Evil Queen," Greg says, his eyes dark. "What have you done with Tamara?"

II

Every now and then, Belle draws a sharp ragged breath as in pain. Emma suspects this is taking quite a toll on Belle, but the she isn't complaining. She is willing to endure it to find Gold. Just as Emma is willing to endure any pain to find Henry.

Henry.

"We're close," Belle says suddenly. Her eyes fly open.

Emma scans the horizon. "The cabin over there?"

"Yeah," Belle breathes. Emma brings the car to an abrupt halt, pulling over at the side of the road. "Aren't we...?"

"We approach on foot," Emma says in a low voice. "Greg may be there. Be quiet and stay behind me."

"Okay," Belle agrees. She reaches down into her purse and pulls a small gun out. Emma raises an eyebrow. "Granny gave me this."

"At least it's not a crossbow," Emma mutters, getting out. She gets her own gun out, keeping her eye on the cabin as they approach. She can't see any car parked, but she's not willing to take any chances.

It's a log cabin, showing a few signs of neglect. In the morning light, it looks almost cozy. Not the place one would expect to find some anti-magic lunatic keeping the Dark One prisoner. But perhaps that is the point.

The last few feet Emma crouches, almost crawling. She puts her finger on the trigger, and then very carefully she tries the main door. It doesn't budge. For a moment she considers looking through windows or something first, but then she thinks of Henry and simply stands up and kicks the door in.

Belle gasps, but Emma pays no heed, already rushing inside. The main room is empty, so she quickly kicks the next door in and meets Gold's eyes.

"Miss Swan!" he says, and she lowers her gun an inch. "For once, it is a pleasure to see you."

"Rumpel!" Belle cries, pushing herself past Emma and falling to her knees next to Gold. She looks at his chains with teary eyes.

"Belle," he says in wonder, and then there is kissing and hands and Emma sighs. Great.

"Guys, I really get more than enough of that from my parents," she says. "Gold, where is Greg?"

"In Storybrooke," Gold says hoarsely, as Belle pulls at his chains. "Oh, _Belle_."

Emma looks away, instead digging into her pocket for her phone. Mary Margaret answers on the second ring, sounding breathless.

"Emma?"

"I'm fine," Emma says and she can hear the relieved sighs of both Mary Margaret and David. "We found Gold."

"Is he all right?" Mary Margaret asks. Emma dares a glance in Gold's direction, but quickly looks away again.

"Yeah. I'd say he's more than fine. He says Greg is in Storybrooke already. Have you seen him?"

"No," Mary Margaret says. "Graham, Ruby and the dwarfs have gathered some people and are out looking. Charming and I were getting ready to look around too."

"Nevermind that for now," Emma says. "I think Gold will be very motivated to locate Greg. Bring Regina with you and I'll meet you at the town line. Gold's powers should kick in the moment he crosses."

"Regina isn't back yet," Mary Margaret says. "I'll call her. We'll meet you there."

"Yeah," Emma agrees. She breathes, feeling the exhaustion slam into her again now that the adrenaline has faded.

"Emma?" Mary Margaret asks, sounding worried.

"I'm fine," Emma mutters. "See you soon."

She steadies herself against the wall. Belle and Gold have stopped kissing at least, Belle now talking with a soft, sad voice. She's explaining what happened to Neal, Emma realizes, and watches Gold's heart break in front of her.

II

"Tell me," Greg hisses, and Regina simply smiles up at him. He's pulled her into his car, and without magic she might not have much to fight back with – but that doesn't mean she'll surrender.

"Go to hell," she says and he slams the taser into her again. It hurts. Oh, how it hurts, but Regina is used to pain. She's lived with it so long it's practically a part of her.

He looks expectantly at her as he pulls the taser back, so she laughs at him. He narrows his eyes, but before he can hurt her again, her phone rings.

He yanks the phone out of her purse and looks at the name on her caller ID. "Mary Margaret Nolan. Tamara went to dinner with them last night."

"She did," Regina confirms, her heart pounding. "I knew she was no good. I knew it the moment I saw her. So I waited for her yesterday, and I killed her."

He looks at her, and she tries her best Evil Queen smile as the phone continues ringing insistently.

"You're protecting them," he says. "You're the Evil Queen and you're protecting Snow White and Prince Charming? What version of the fairytale is this?"

"The one without the cartoon villain," she says, just as the phone stops ringing. A moment later, it beeps to tell her she has a new text message.

"Text from Mary Margaret Nolan. 'Meet us at the town border.' Well," Greg says, slamming the taser into her again and making her scream. "I guess we have an appointment to keep."


	92. Chapter Ninety-One

II

**Chapter Ninety-One**

II

Present Day

II

"This is my fault," Rumpel mutters brokenly, burying his head in Belle's shoulder. She can only hold him, thinking of the Neal she got to know briefly. A good man, if haunted. "I killed my son."

" _Tamara_ shot your son," Emma says darkly. "And nearly my parents too. She took Henry."

"Tamara," Rumpel repeats, and something dark flashes across his face as he lifts his head. "Greg."

"Rumpel, promise me you won't kill them," Belle says and he looks at her.

"I cannot let this stand, Belle. I will not let this stand. They've taken my son from me!"

"Killing them won't bring him back," Belle says, putting her hand on his cheek. He looks at her, torn between anger and grief. "Please, Rumpel. Neal wouldn't want you to do this."

"Bae," Rumpel says, and the grief wins as he lowers his head. Belle kisses his head lovingly, his pain and her own pain seeming to have mixed in her so much that she can no longer tell them apart.

"Help us find Henry," Emma says. She wipes a tear furiously away, and Belle pats her arm in comfort as Emma kneels down. "You gave Henry to my parents to honor Neal. Please..."

"Please," Belle adds. She thinks of little Henry, and of Neal, but of Rumpel too. This will give him something to live for, something that isn't revenge.

Gold looks old, older than Belle thinks she's ever seen him. He looks broken, tired and the shadows seem to caress him, as if drawing him back to darkness. Then he sighs, lifts his head and she can see a light in his eyes.

"For Bae," he says and Belle kisses him softly, feeling sadder and yet more hopeful than she has in a long time.

II

He's exhausted, Charming is well aware. He can feel it to his very bones, a fatigue that isn't just from the lack of sleep. They've had to deal with so many things, faced so many dangers and been through so many emotional moments. He just feels tired. So very tired. But he just has to think of Henry's face, of Emma's heartbroken look and of his wife's teary eyes to know he has to stay strong.

Snow's hand in his feels like a lifeline too. Her palm is warm against his, and her thumb is gently caressing his. Even with how exhausted she looks, he can feel her quiet determination too.

They are going to find their son. He has to believe that, for himself, for Snow and for Emma.

"I wonder what is taking Regina so long," Snow murmurs. They've been standing at the town line for a good while now, and Regina hasn't called or showed up yet, so he can understand Snow's concern. "You don't think she's casting a spell or something?"

He considers the possibility. "Risking herself to help us find Henry? I would have found that impossible to consider back in our land, but now... Yeah, she might."

Snow looks both happy and worried at that, and he squeezes her hand lightly.

"I think that's her car," he says, noticing the car driving towards them. As it approaches, he can see that it is indeed Regina's. But as it approaches, Snow gives him a quick, alarmed look.

"I see it," he murmurs, putting his hand on his sword. Snow readies an arrow.

It's not Regina driving. In fact, Charming is getting the sinking feeling that this is in fact Greg Mendell. He can make out Regina in the passenger seat, as the car comes to a halt several feet away. He pulls his sword, glancing at Snow. She nods.

With the car as cover, Greg yanks Regina out with him. Snow keeps very still, probably waiting for an opportunity to make the shot.

"Move closer or shoot, and she dies!" Greg calls out. Charming can see something pressed to Regina's throat that looks like a taser. Her hands are restrained as well, and she's wearing some odd bracelets. She's not using magic, which gives him a sinking feeling something is very wrong. He grits his teeth. They can't risk Regina, and they need Greg alive as well.

"They don't care," Regina hisses. "I'm the Evil Queen. I'm the worst hostage you could have chosen, you idiot."

"They care," Greg says certainly. "I looked through your phone. A lot of calls and a lot of texts. And they're the heroes. Snow White and Prince Charming. They're not going to let you die, are they?"

"Greg Mendell," Charming says, and the man looks up in shock.

"Did Tamara tell you my name? What have you done with her?"

"She shot her fiancée, kidnapped our son and attempted to kill us," Snow says, narrowing her eyes. "Now back away from my step-mother. I am not in the mood to lose anyone else today."

"I wouldn't mess with my wife," Charming adds.

Greg looks torn for a moment, then he slams the taser into Regina's neck and Regina screams and twitches.

"Let her go," Snow says. "Please. She's done nothing to you."

"Rumpelstiltskin," Regina mutters. She smiles, but there is no joy in it. "You want to make him suffer, don't you?"

"Yes," Greg says. Charming can hear the pain in the man's voice. "He killed my father. The town tore him to pieces. I went to your cemetery today, hoping someone would have found some piece of him and buried him. But there is nothing, is there?"

"There's revenge," Regina says, looking at Snow. "That's what you want, isn't it? Want Rumpelstiltskin to suffer. Tamara is gone. She's left you on your own. You're free. Free to seek your revenge. All you need is the dagger – and they have it."

"Regina!" Charming exclaims, but she just smiles oddly at them. What the hell?

"The dagger?" Greg repeats. He licks his lips, brushing the taser against Regina's skin again.

"Yes, the dagger. They'll trade you the dagger for my life," Regina goes on. "They're good guys."

Snow stares at Regina, then slowly lowers her bow. "Give him the dagger, Charming."

II

Rumpelstiltskin's dagger, Greg thinks and licks his lips again. With it, he can... He can do so much. Images flash through his head, and he even remembers Tamara telling him if he kills the Dark One with the dagger, he will have that power.

Maybe that can be the ultimate revenge.

"What?" the man who is apparently Prince Charming says, staring at Snow White. "You want me to give him the dagger?"

"Yes," Snow White says. The two exchange an odd look Greg can't interpret, but Charming finally nods slowly. Without letting go of the sword, he reaches into his boot and yanks out a dagger.

"Toss it here," Greg says eagerly. Regina chuckles, so he slams the taser into her again.

"Here," Charming says angrily, tossing it so it buries itself in the ground. Greg reaches for it, and feels a moment of cold triumph as his hand closes around the handle.

Now he just needs Gold across the town line, and...

"Here comes Emma," Snow White says in an odd tone. They all watch as a car comes driving toward them from the other side of the town line.

"Say anything and she dies," Greg hisses, ducking with Regina out of sight. Snow White and Prince Charming seem to take that threat seriously, as they simply stand still and say nothing as the car approaches and then comes to a stop. Out comes Gold hand in hand with a red-headed younger woman, and a blonde jumps out of the front seat.

"So we..." the blonde starts, then looks around. "What's wrong?"

"You are," Greg says, stepping forward with the dagger held high. "You all are."

"What the hell, guys?" Emma asks, but Prince Charming simply puts a hand on her arm and gives her a look.

"Greg," Gold says darkly.

"Time to play, Dark One," Greg counters. "I have you now. _I have you_. Now kill them all. I command you."

For a moment, time seems to stand still. Snow White shakes her head, Regina giggles again.

"No," Gold says slowly.

"No?" Greg asks, confused. "I have the dagger."

"No," Gold says again. "Actually, you don't."

"But..." Greg says, turning his gaze to Snow White and Prince Charming.

"Well, well," Gold says with a deeply unpleasant smile. "The Charmings with a clever ploy. Didn't think you had it in you, dearies. Blind courage always seemed more your style. Or did Regina come up with this?"

Snow White and Prince Charming exchange a look, which makes Gold chuckle.

"Regina, then," Gold concludes. He turns to look at Greg again, and Greg swallows. "I believe you and I have a date, dearie."

"No," Greg says, trying to remember how to breathe. "I can still kill her. I still have a hostage. I can..."

"No, you can't," Snow says and lifts her bow before he can even blink, and then just scream as the arrow buries itself in his shoulder. Regina slips out of his grasp, and he staggers to his knees. The pain feels overwhelming for a moment, but it is nothing compared to the raw fear that he can no longer keep at bay.

As he glances up, can see Gold walking over to him. Regina has moved away, and is being supported by Snow White, while Prince Charming has his sword ready and the blonde woman has her gun out.

"Gold," Prince Charming says, a clear warning in his voice. "We need him alive."

"I need him _dead_ ," Gold says darkly. "Unpleasantly so."

"No, Rumpel," a soft voice says, and Gold turns around. It's the red-head, Greg realizes, and she's holding a dagger. But how...? "You're not going to kill him."

Gold looks almost sadly at her. "Belle. You told me once that no one makes your choices for you. Are you to take mine away now?"

"You're still a man who makes bad choices, Rumpel," Belle counters, looking sad. "I love you, but I'm not blind. I won't use this more than I have to, but I'm going to fight for you, and for us."

Gold sighs, but walks over to Belle and takes her hand in both of his, lifting it to his lips with a tenderness Greg wouldn't think the Dark One capable of. "As you wish, Belle."

"Okay, does anyone want to tell me what the hell is going on here?" the blonde demands.

II

"Snow called. They found Greg," Ruby says and Anton glances up from his beverage. She is talking to seven men, he notices. He's seen them around today, looking frazzled and stressed.

"Good," one of the men replies, but he doesn't sound too thrilled about it. He sounds grumpy, in fact. "Then they got a lead on finding little Henry."

Little Henry, Anton remembers. Yes. Snow's son, and the son of James' twin (provided that story is true, which he's now almost certain it is).

"I'm sorry," he says, and Ruby and the seven men glance over at him. "I couldn't help but overhear – what has happened to Henry?"

Ruby sighs. "He was kidnapped and brought to another realm."

"Oh," Anton says. "He was a good kid. He seemed really nice."

"He is," Ruby says softly. "Snow and Charming are devastated."

Anton thinks about what James did to his family. But Henry, little Henry is not James. Henry was nice. Snow and Charming were too, despite everything.

"Maybe I could help," Anton says, and Ruby and her seven friends all look up at him hopefully.

II

"So Regina gave you Rumpelstiltskin's dagger to keep safe, only it wasn't the real dagger because Belle had already found the real one and replaced it with a fake," Emma sums up. She stares down into her tea and sighs.

"Apparently," David says. He glances over to where Snow is gently tending to Regina, despite the fact that Regina healed herself the moment Gold removed the bracelets. "But Regina didn't know about the switch initially."

"Right," Emma says. She rubs her temples and David suspects she has the same kind of headache he's fighting. She glances up as Regina comes to sit down at the kitchen table also, followed by Snow. "How did you figure out Belle had switched the dagger, Regina?"

"She's a bad liar," Regina says simply. "And I asked Red this morning. She had caught Belle's scent in the bell tower."

"You wouldn't have asked us to give up the real dagger for your life, would you?" Charming asks softly.

"Of course not," Regina says, and Snow smiles faintly. "But I don't have a particular desire to die either. It seemed an easier way to subdue him than getting into a brawl. Of course, Snow couldn't help herself in the end."

"You're welcome, Regina," Snow says drily, and Charming can see Regina smile ever so faintly.

Emma glances over at Greg, who is sitting on the couch and looking quite terrified. Gold has been talking to him – just talking, with Belle hovering nearby – for half an hour now and she's pretty sure anything Greg knows, they'll know now.

"Emma," Snow says gently. The two look at each other, then link hands.

"The man is a low-level idiot," Rumpelstiltskin announces, walking over. "He doesn't know where Tamara might have taken Henry. Fortunately, I have something we can use to locate the boy."

With that, Gold holds out a hand, and in a flash of purple, a globe appears. Slowly, he lowers it to the table. It has a needle on top, Charming notices.

"The boy has my blood. Bae's blood," Gold says, just for a moment sounding like a grieving father. Then the mask is back. "So if I..."

He pricks himself, and they all stare as red liquid begins to move across the globe, slowly making out the shape of some land.

"Neverland," Gold says. He doesn't look pleased. Nor does Regina, for some reason. But Charming still finds himself smiling, putting his hand on Snow and Emma's. Snow nods at him, her eyes teary, while Emma swallows.

They have a destination now. Neverland.


	93. Chapter Ninety-Two

II

**Chapter Ninety-Two**

II

Present Day

II

Anton can hear voices before he's at the door, but the seven dwarfs (as he has learned they are, even if he has trouble remembering all their names yet) smile encouragingly nevertheless, nudging him forward. So despite feeling like he's intruding, Anton steps forward and knocks.

It's David who opens. He looks tired, dark circles under his eyes and and a look in them that once and for all convinces Anton that this man is not James. It's too honestly heartbroken.

"I'm sorry to intrude," Anton says awkwardly. Further into the room, he can see a dark-haired woman and an older man have a rather heated argument

"It's all right," David says, even if clearly isn't. "We're just a bit... Preoccupied at the moment."

"I heard about your boy," Anton says quietly. "He was very nice to me in the hospital."

David closes his eyes for a moment. "Yeah. Henry was very excited to meet you."

"I heard he was taken to another realm," Anton goes on, glancing over at the dwarfs.

"Neverland," David says tiredly. "We're trying to figure out a way to get there right now."

"That's why I'm here," Anton says, and David finally seems to properly focus on him. "I may have a way."

II

Magical beans, Emma thinks tiredly. Of course the ex-giant would be growing magical beans. Because he's the former giant who lived up a beanstalk, so of course he would have beans. Of course.

She just listens to the buzz around her, as David thanks Anton profusely and Snow hugs him. Emma can only offer a faint smile, but Anton gives her an awkward smile in return, so perhaps he understands and accepts it for what it is – genuine gratitude.

Rumpelstiltskin and Belle decide to go with Anton to attempt to harvest a bean or two, and the dwarfs seem to consider it a given that they're coming too, so they follow. Regina excuses herself while muttering about getting a 'guide' and transportation, which Emma supposes she should be curious about but just can't summon the strength to.

Instead, she lowers her head to the table. A moment later, she feels a soft kiss against her neck.

"I'm going to take Greg to the station and keep him there until we need him," Graham murmurs. He kisses her neck again, brushing his hand up and down her back a few times. She sighs, tilting her head up and kissing him clumsily. She's too tired to put much force into it, but he meets it gently.

"Thank you," she says, hoping he understands it's not just for taking Greg to the station. It is for everything, and most of all for being him.

"My pleasure," he says sincerely, and she watches him walk over to the couch, yank Greg up and then head forward the door. With one last smile directed at her, he's gone and she lowers her head again.

"Graham's a good man," Mary Margaret says, and Emma turns her head to see David and Mary Margaret standing together in the kitchen. They must have seen it all, she realizes. Somehow, she can't summon the strength to care. It's not like the pair of them haven't kissed each other so she could see, after all.

"Mmhmm," David says noncommittally. Mary Margaret gives him a look.

"So Gold is getting the beans, Regina is getting the guide and Graham is watching Greg, What do I need to do?" Emma asks after a moment, biting back the urge to bury herself in a bed.

"You need to sleep," David says softly. He holds up a hand as she starts to protest. "Harvesting the beans will take a few hours, according to Gold. There is nothing we can do until then."

"It feels wrong to sleep while Henry's missing," Emma says slowly, even as her brain is screaming at her to sleep.

"Yeah," David agrees. "But we can't do anything for him right now."

Emma sighs, then reluctantly stands up. She sways as she gets to her feet, and David is by her side in a moment, and then Mary Margaret is there too. Both of them look just as exhausted as Emma feels, but somehow, parental instinct must be stronger than fatigue, she figures.

"Hey," David says gently. She leans against him, and he guides her to the couch. Mary Margaret pulls out a blanket, and then Emma finds herself being tucked in by her parents.

She closes her eyes as Mary Margaret, and then David kisses her temple. As they would with Henry, she imagines, feeling that familiar mix of jealousy and happiness.

She's going to get him back to this. To David and Mary Margaret, and to her. To their family. To this... This love.

"Love you," she murmurs, and she can hear David draw a sharp breath. "Been meaning to say it. Love you both."

"Oh, Emma," Mary Margaret says softly, stroking her hair. "We love you too, honey."

And to that, Emma finally falls asleep.

II

Hook opens the door on the fifth knock, lifting his eyebrow as he takes in Regina. He doesn't seem displeased, at least. That's a start.

"Are you here for the drink or for my company, sweetheart?" he asks. "I'm always up for you."

"I'm here for you," she says and he tilts his head curiously. "And the Jolly Roger."

"I love a woman who knows what she wants," he replies, standing to the side to give her room to come inside. "Why don't you tell me what this is about?"

"It's about Henry," she says, marching inside and turning to face him. "Bae's son. He was kidnapped."

"Henry? The Nolan kid? He's Baelfire's son?"

"Yes."

Hook's demeanor changes, as if he's letting go of the act. Regina knows about acts and letting them go all too well, so she says nothing and waits until he's ready.

"What can I do to help?" he finally asks seriously, and Regina smiles slowly and genuinely, letting her own act drop as well.

II

Gold watches the dwarfs and Anton fuss around the small sapling with as much detachment as he can muster, feeling desperately in need of some sort of cover. Some mask, some act, some wall, something to hide behind.

He's lost his son. It feels like losing his purpose, so he tries instead to keep his mind on this new purpose. Finding Henry. He has to think about that.

The sapling is too young to be harvested, but with some magic they'll be able to get a bean or two from it. That will be enough.

"Rumpel?" Belle asks. More than anything, he wishes he could bury himself in her embrace, but he knows he can't afford to.

"I will go with them to Neverland," he says. "To honor Bae."

"He would be very proud of you," she says, smiling slightly. "And there is always hope, Rumpel. He may be alive."

Gold doesn't dare hope, so he says nothing at that. He's not brave enough to carry hope and have it crushed.

"You must stay here," he says instead, as he's been getting ready to say the last hour.

"What? No!" she protests, putting her hands on his chest. "I won't leave you."

"Greg and Tamara found this town. There will be others coming," he says quietly. "I have written a cloaking spell for you to cast after we have left for Neverland. It will hide the town."

"But how will you find your way back to me then?" she asks, and watches his face. He knows she'll be able to see the truth there, that he thinks they won't be able to. "Rumpel..."

"Neverland is a dark place, Belle," he says harshly. "I will need to be the Dark One for this. Regina is practically half a Charming by now, so I can't count on her."

Belle shakes her head, so he leans forward and kisses her very gently. She links her hands around his neck, drawing him closer and kissing him almost desperately back.

"Please, Belle," he whispers.

"There is something else, isn't there?" she says, pulling back slightly and looking at him. "There is another reason you don't want me to come with you."

"Yes," he admits.

She nods slowly. He lifts his hand to her chest, feeling her heartbeat against his palm.

"I gave you my heart and you made it your own," he says lovingly. "It's yours now. I gave you half a heart, a broken ugly heart, and you've made it as strong and as beautiful as you are. Promise me, Belle... Promise me that you will live after I'm gone. Use your heart."

"You make it sound like you're dying," she says. He merely looks at her. "I could use the dagger to command you to bring me."

"You could," he agrees. "But you're not going to. You're going to guard the dagger and look after this town. Because that's who you are."

Belle closes her eyes, and then opens them again.

"I will see you again," she says, her eyes bright with bravery and hope. "I know it."

And that's who she is too, Gold knows, and wonders if he dares to hope that she is right.

II

Snow wakes slowly, struggling to open her eyes. Her eyelids feel heavy, so very heavy. For a moment, she thinks she must only be awake because Henry is waking them up far too early yet again.

Then she remembers, and the memory hurts.

She can feel a hand lingering on her stomach and a warm body against her back, and she knows it must be Charming. She can vaguely remember that he led her to bed, before starting to pack what they would need for a journey. He must have finished and joined her here. Like her, he's still fully dressed and has just pulled one blanket over them.

"You can sleep for a while longer," he whispers. "They're not back yet."

She exhales, as Charming shifts even closer to her. His lips brush the skin at the back of her neck, a gentle lingering caress.

"Do you think Henry has been able to sleep?" she whispers.

"I don't know," he admits. His hand starts making slow circles on her stomach as he lifts his head to rest against hers. "He's brave, Snow. He's as brave as you."

"He's got your faith," she says, thinking of Henry's unwavering faith in Emma, in happy endings, in stories. "He'll believe that we'll come for him."

"As we will," Charming says. "And then live happily ever after, how does that sound?"

"Is that a proposal?" she asks, trying to keep her voice light.

She can feel him smile. "Yes. Snow White, also known as Mary Margaret Nolan, would you like to live happily ever after with me, our daughter, our son and the cupcake?"

"I'd love to," she replies, turning her head to face him. He kisses her softly for several minutes, still caressing her stomach lovingly. "Charming?"

"What is it?" he murmurs against her lips, brushing them with his own before pulling back.

"Regina's here," she says.

"Oh," he says, looking up to where Regina is standing in the doorway.

"Nothing I haven't seen before," Regina says drily. "Nothing I won't see again, knowing you two. Did you get some sleep?"

"Yeah," Snow says, sitting up as Charming does the same. "Is Emma still...?"

"Yes," Regina replies. "I didn't wake her."

Snow nods, pulling her legs up to her chest. "Did you get what you wanted for the journey?"

"Yes," Regina says, looking into the hallway and beckoning someone. "May I present Killian Jones, our Neverland guide?"

"Majesties," Hook says as he enters. "The Jolly Roger is at your disposal."

"You got us a ship?" Charming says. He sounds genuinely impressed.

"Technically, she got me," Hook replies. "The ship is just part of a package deal."

"And why are you coming with us?" Snow asks, watching him curiously.

"I knew Neal a long time ago," Hook says, and Snow tilts her head at the tone of his voice. There is something in it, something almost affectionate. "You saw this Tamara woman shoot him?"

"Yes," Snow says. If she closes her eyes, she can still see it, still smell the blood and hear Henry's scream.

Charming puts a hand on her neck, brushing his thumb across her skin in a small comforting gesture. "Thank you, Hook."

"You're welcome, mate," Hook replies, and she attributes Charming not making a comment about not being Hook's mate to exhaustion.

"Right," Charming says instead, getting out of bed. "Do you both have what you want to bring for the journey?"

"Yes," Regina says, and Hook nods.

"All right," Charming says. "Help me load it into the truck with our stuff and we'll be ready to go once Gold and Belle return."

"I'll be right there," Regina says, glancing over at Snow.

"Yeah, we'll be down in a moment," Snow says, and he glances from her to Regina, then nods. He gives her a brief peck before walking out, Hook following right behind.

Regina waits until the footsteps have vanished. "You both heard what Rumpelstiltskin said about no one aging in Neverland?"

"Yes," Snow replies. "You're thinking about the pregnancy, aren't you?"

Regina nods and sits down on the bed. "It is possible your pregnancy won't be affected and that Neverland will simply mean that if you have the baby there, it won't grow any older until you leave. I don't know. It's also possible your pregnancy will be frozen, just as it is now, not progressing. I just don't know."

Snow nods. "But it won't harm the baby?"

"No," Regina says firmly. "Cinderella was stuck pregnant for 28 years by the curse and she just had her child. It was as healthy as can be."

Snow manages a faint smile. "Thanks."

"Charming hasn't suggested you stay behind or anything?" Regina asks, furrowing her brow.

"No."

"Good. The man's not a complete idiot then. There's hope for him."

Snow laughs; she can't help it. Regina looks at her for a moment, smiling faintly and then leans forward and embraces her. It's a brief hug, but it is a hug.

And despite all the terrible things that have happened, Snow can't help but think that maybe, maybe something good can come from all of this too.


	94. Chapter Ninety-Three

II

**Chapter Ninety-Three**

II

"Emma, honey?" Mary Margaret says, and Emma struggles to open her eyes. For a moment, she wants to tell them it's too early, to go on and make breakfast without her and just bring her pancakes afterward.

Then she remembers, and she keeps her eyes firmly shut while she struggles to keep her emotions in check. This isn't a normal morning. It won't be a normal morning again until she gets Henry back for them all. Not that she's had many normal mornings in Storybrooke, but even the constant trouble became a sort of normal.

With a sort of control established, she blinks a few times and opens her eyes to focus on her mother's worried face.

"Hey," she murmurs, swallowing a few times. Her mouth tastes like ash.

"It's time to go," Mary Margaret says gently. Emma glances up to see David hovering nearby as well, sword at his hip. Mary Margaret is armed too, Emma realizes, just like they were at the town line. It reminds her that they are literally out of fairytales. Her fairytale parents, and her, feeling as un-fairytale as they come.

She groans and stands up. "Where are we going? I mean, apart from Neverland eventually."

"The docks," David says. "Regina managed to convince Hook to come with us. We're taking the Jolly Roger to Neverland."

Emma nods, deciding she doesn't want to know how Regina managed that accomplishment. "And the beans?"

"They were able to harvest one," Mary Margaret says, trying to sound positive. Emma can still hear a note of worry. "One was damaged in the process."

"So we may not have a way home," Emma concludes. One bean. One way.

"There may be a way to rejuvenate the damaged one," David says, and Emma finds herself wondering how bad a situation has to be to make him give up hope. "We'll bring it with us. And even if there isn't, Neverland is a land with magic, Emma. There may be other ways to return home. We will find a way."

She just nods tiredly. Even if there is no way, at least she will have her family with her.

"The truck is packed. We're ready to go. Regina and Hook already went on ahead," Mary Margaret says. "Is there anything else you'd like to bring? I've packed some of your clothes."

"Give me a minute," Emma replies after thinking for a moment. "I'll meet you outside."

Mary Margaret nods, and David gives her soft look before the two walk out, leaving Emma alone in the apartment.

There isn't anything she needs to bring. She's sure David and Mary Margaret have packed for Henry already, and for herself, she's never had much she's felt attached to.

Until this place. She's attached to this apartment, this tiny cluttered apartment with barely enough space for three, let alone four. But it became a home.

Her home. Despite not living here very long, it's become her home. She's found her parents here, made breakfast here, listened to story time here, have gotten to know her son here, walked in on her parents here, fell in love here.

And now she may never come back here. Of course she's willing to make that sacrifice in a heartbeat for Henry, but she still allows herself a moment of feeling the loss.

Then she shuts off the lights, locks the door behind her and walks down to join her parents.

II

Snow watches the garden with her birdhouses, with Henry's toys strewn everywhere, with the faint outline of the 'Charmings' signal Emma and Henry were working on together.

"We might not come back to this," she whispers, and Charming slips his arms around her as she leans back against him. Her quiver is probably pressing into his chest, but he shows no sign of discomfort.

"I know," he says, kissing her temple. "I know I've been talking about returning to the Enchanted Forest, and I still want to, but... I will miss this place. This is always going to be where we got our son, and I love our son."

"I love him too," Snow murmurs, and thinks of Henry. "Home is where our family is. This was our home with Henry, and then with Emma."

"Yes," he agrees, as they both see Emma exit the front door and pause to look at the garden. "And now we're leaving – but we're talking our home with us."

Snow can only nod, as Emma takes one last glance at the Nolan home before walking over.

"Ready?" Charming asks, and Emma looks up at him; their faces such mirrors of determination, Snow finds. They even have the same furrowed brow.

"Ready," Emma says, and gets into the truck without looking back.

II

Regina pulls the car over, noticing that Rumpelstiltskin and Belle haven't arrived yet. They should be en route, so she bites back her impatience and leans back in the seat. Graham is there though, with the handcuffed Greg.

Greg. She can still remember the pain of his taser, and the feeling of helplessness without her magic. Most importantly, she can remember what he intended to do with the dagger.

Hook follows as she marches out of the car, while Graham folds his arms.

"Don't worry, sheriff. I know we need him alive," Regina says, eying Greg. She lifts a hand like a claw, and Greg's eyes widen. "But there are so many lovely things he and I could do while keeping him alive. Barely alive, but alive."

Hook chuckles, and she can feel his gaze on her back. It's almost as if he finds this a turn-on, which doesn't really surprise her.

"Regina," Graham sighs, but he doesn't move to stop her.

"You're on their side," Greg says as she approaches. He sounds fearful. "You're working with them. They're the good guys."

"They are the good guys," she says softly, pressing her fingers against his chest. "But I am the former villain. I might be on their side, but that doesn't mean I use their methods."

"Is this about Snow White and Prince Charming?" Greg asks hurriedly. "Those two idiots, they're just..."

Regina smiles faintly. "They're _my_ two idiots."

Greg seems to get the idea that perhaps an insult wasn't the best move. "I wouldn't have harmed them, I swear. I wouldn't have..."

"You would," she says darkly. "You almost did."

Greg swallows. "I just wanted revenge for my father."

"It stopped being just revenge the moment you didn't care who else you harmed," she says quietly. "Trust me, I know. I know revenge. I know evil. And you, you crossed the line."

"So now you're going to kill me?" he asks.

"No," she says, lowering her hand. Hook makes a disappointed noise behind her, but she ignores it. "You are going to Neverland with us. You might have some useful information for us, or perhaps we can use you against Tamara. Either way, willing or not, you will help us save Henry Nolan. And perhaps if you're very, very lucky a couple of hopeful idiots will think there is something worth saving in you. Perhaps you'll even be Owen Flynn again one day."

With that, she turns around sharply to see Hook gazing at her.

"What?" she says, folding her arms and feeling strangely vulnerable.

"I'm just looking at Regina Mills," he says.

II

As the Charmings pull over, parking behind Regina's car, Belle turns to Rumpelstiltskin and finds she has no words. She, who has read a library of books, has no words.

He seems to understand, because he takes her hands in his and leans down and kisses both. She forces back the tears at the gesture, knowing that for Rumpel, this is a goodbye. He doesn't think he will return.

For a moment she thinks about using the dagger after all or maybe even stowing away. She doesn't want to do this. She wants to fight for him.

But she also knows that she cannot fight his battles for him, especially when he's determined to go them alone. And she suspects he thinks he is going to his death and he hopes that being in another world than her means his death won't kill her heart also.

"Come back to me," she whispers instead, kissing him softly before stepping away and walking over to Ruby. Ruby hugs her, and Belle buries her head in her friends' shoulder. At least she won't be alone here.

There are others to see the Charmings' rescue party off as well. Anton and the dwarfs (who seem to have almost adopted him) are here, as well as Granny and few others that Belle doesn't really know.

Snow walks over with Charming in tow, and Belle watches as Ruby and Snow hug each other fiercely while Charming looks on. He meets Belle's gaze and then smiles softly, as if understanding.

As Charming and Ruby hug as well, Snow turns to Belle.

"Thank you for your help," Snow says softly.

Belle swallows. "I know I have no right to ask this given what he's done to your family, but please... Don't let him lose himself in darkness."

Snow closes her eyes for a moment. "I don't know if we can save him, Belle. But he is Henry's grandfather. We won't abandon him."

"Thanks," Belle manages to say, and Charming gives her another sympathetic smile before the two walk over to say their goodbyes to the dwarfs. Regina and Hook have already walked on board the Jolly Roger, pulling a protesting Greg with them. Graham and Emma are talking together by his car, and Rumpel is standing by the gangplank, just looking at her.

It's a strange thing, really, how much a mere look can say. And so, Belle meets his gaze and tells him the same right back.

II

"You know this could be a one-way ticket," Emma murmurs as Graham watches her with a gaze she doesn't quite dare meet.

"I know," he says. He cups her head in his hands, drawing her gaze to him. "It's my choice, Emma."

She swallows. "I just don't want you to feel obligated to..."

"Emma," he says quietly, caressing her cheek. "I have far more reason to go than to stay. Far more."

She finds herself smiling at that, despite the mess of grief and fear in her head. Graham. Somehow, Graham has scaled her walls without looking like he was trying to. By just being there, by being him.

He makes a soft noise of surprise as she pulls him down and kisses him fiercely, but he parts his lips readily. His hands go to her waist and he keeps her pressed against him while she kisses him until they're both flushed and breathless.

He swallows as she pulls back, and his voice is hoarse. "Is your father looking at me like he's ready to murder me?"

"No."

"Liar."

"No," she says again, smiling faintly. "He's looking ready to seriously maim you, but not kill."

He laughs softly. "That's progress."

"Yeah," she agrees. It really, really is, and she's not just thinking about David's attitude towards Graham as her boyfriend. "Graham, I'm..."

"Shh," he says simply, brushing his lips against hers. "Let's go find your son. Everything else can wait."

Will wait, Emma knows as he takes her hand and they walk over to her waiting parents. With Graham, it strangely feels like there is no rush at all – that they will have all the time in the world for everything.

II

The Jolly Roger isn't a bad ship, David has to admit, even if it is a pirate's ship. It's sizable, even if they will be quite on top of each other. He can already tell that Gold and Hook in such close proximity is going to be a trial, and Greg of course looks like he would rather be anywhere else but here. Not that that softens David's feelings towards the guy in anyway.

At least it being a ship they can pass off any morning sickness Snow gets as seasickness. Yeah. That might work as cover for a while.

"If Tamara is going to Neverland, she will work for someone. She and Greg are just pawns," Gold says as he extracts the bean. It gleams in his hand.

"Who are they working for then?" Charming asks.

"Someone we all should fear," Gold says simply, handing the bean over to Hook, who weighs it in his hand. "I trust you know what to do, captain?"

"Better than you," Hook replies and Charming fights an urge to roll his eyes."You'd better secure yourselves. The portal will be quite violent."

As Hook throws the bean overboard, Snow wraps a rope around Charming and herself, tying them together and to the ship. He smiles down at her, glancing over to see that Emma is holding on to some roping as well with Graham hovering nearby. David manages not to glare, which earns him a soft squeeze from Snow's hand in his. Regina and Rumpelstiltskin have also secured themselves, while Greg is simply tied to the mast. Hook is steering, looking strangely invigorated by everything.

The portal opens in the water, a swirling mass of green that Charming doesn't much like the look of. Snow clutches on to his jacket, and he holds on to the ropes.

The ship moves, already beginning to rock violently. Charming takes a deep breath as they draw closer, steeling himself. An unknown land with unknown dangers await, but more importantly - their son is waiting for them.

The portal roars. The ship glides into it.

Down they go.


	95. Chapter Ninety-Four

II

**Chapter Ninety-Four**

II

Emma clings on to the ropes as the boat rocks and the portal seems to roar. She bites back the fear, thinking of Henry instead. He is all she needs for courage, because the fear of losing him is greater than anything else.

Not just for her. For her parents too, and she glances over at them. They're clinging to each other as much as the ship, the determination on their faces reminding her of herself.

And suddenly, the ship lurches forward and then comes to a halt, causing her to stumble forward. She curses mildly, feeling Graham's hands on her back.

"Emma?" Mary Margaret asks, sounding worried.

"I'm fine," Emma murmurs, accepting the offered hand to help stand up only to realize it's not Graham's, but David's. Mary Margaret is right behind him, of course, since they're still halfway tied together.

"You all right?" he asks softly.

"I'm fine," she says, but allows her hand to linger in his for a moment anyway. "Don't worry."

"Father's prerogative to worry," he says lightly, glancing over at Graham who is still keeping his hands on Emma's back – as if to add disliking the boyfriend is another. She's pretty sure David actually likes Graham though. She also remembers from the stories David has told her that the huntsman have saved both Mary Margaret's life and David's life. But still. Apparently fathers will be fathers – or at least her father will be her father, since she doesn't really have much father experience to draw broad conclusions from - and she's torn between annoyance and happiness at that.

"Now that we have established Miss Swan is fine," Regina says drily, though sounding more amused than annoyed. "Could we also establish if this is indeed Neverland?"

Emma looks around, for the first time taking in her surroundings. There is sea, so much sea, and yet the water itself seems dark and foreboding. It is nighttime, she realizes, a faint twinkle of stars above them.

And in the distance, there is mist and a mountain rising up from it.

"This is Neverland," Hook says darkly. He exchanges a glance with Rumpelstiltskin, both of them looking none too pleased about it.

Emma doesn't care. She steps closer to the railing, staring at the mist.

"Is Henry...?" She swallows, realizing that's the wrong way to phrase it. "How do we find Henry?"

"The patience of a Charming," Gold remarks sarcastically and she shoots him a look. But when she sees the dark glint in his eyes, she feels herself softening. Gold just lost his son, after all, and if this is how he copes, then... Then she knows it all too well.

"I am all for fighting," Hook observes, turning the ship towards the mist. "But there are dangers in this land. Mermaids. Fairies. The Shadow. It comes out at night, and once you set foot on Neverland's soil, it doesn't let you leave."

"Peter Pan," Gold says.

"Like in the children's story?" Emma asks, but Gold shakes his head.

"This is a story about children, Miss Swan, but it isn't a children's story. Peter Pan is someone we all should fear. Courage might be admirable, but it can also be foolish."

Emma feels Mary Margaret come to stand beside her, putting a hand on Emma's back. After a moment, Emma allows herself to lean against her mother. David is holding Mary Margaret's hand, gazing at the mist as well.

"The Shadow comes out at night," Hook says. "It would be best to wait for daylight before we scout."

"No!" Mary Margaret protests. "Henry is..."

"Still alive," Gold says. His eyes are closed, but his face is strangely focused, as if he's seeing something nevertheless. "Tamara and Henry are here, they are... I can see them, I can see... Neal?"

Emma draws a sharp breath at the name, feeling the pain at a loss she can't really afford to focus on. She can feel Graham's eyes on her too, sympathetic but curious.

"Neal?" David repeats.

Gold shakes his head and opens his eyes, and they all pretend not to see the flash of pain across his face since Gold is so quick to hide it.

"Just a passing sensation," Gold says, his voice void of emotion. "I agree with the pirate, as much as it pains me. It's too dark to look properly and far too dangerous to stumble around in the dark. I will work on some scrying spells during the night, though I am not sure how much we will be able to see with magic. Might I suggest the rest of you get some sleep? We will have a long day ahead of us."

Emma bites back the instant reaction of wanting to tell Gold to go to hell. He is right, she knows. She's hardly slept and she can feel it, and she can see it on her parents' faces as well

"What about him?" David asks, glancing over at Greg.

"He will keep me company," Gold says quietly, and Greg looks as if he'd rather die.

"Gold," David says. "I understand your loss. Believe me, I do. But think of what Belle would want."

The two men look at each other, and the strange understanding between them makes Emma blink. Prince Charming and the Dark One. Huh.

"He won't come to harm," Gold finally says and David seems to accept that, nodding faintly.

"I will take the Jolly Roger closer to land," Hook says. He eyes Gold warily. "You are welcome to use whatever cabins and bunks downstairs you want. You're especially welcome to mine."

The latter might be directed at her, Emma finds, or maybe Regina or even Mary Margaret. David certainly seems to be affronted either way, taking a step forward before Mary Margaret puts a hand on his chest.

"Fine," David says testily. He glances over at Emma. "Would you like to share a cabin with us or would you rather...?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I'll let you have your privacy," she says. "Adult daughter's prerogative, you know."

He smiles softly, then leans forward and kisses her forehead gently. "Goodnight, Emma."

Mary Margaret is next, cupping Emma's head in her hands and looking at her in that way Emma still finds dizzying. "We will find Henry, Emma. Try to get some sleep."

With that and another forehead kiss, her parents walk off and Emma is left with Graham and Regina.

"I'm guessing you prefer him as the bunkmate over me," Regina comments. "And I am not in the mood to discover if you're as indiscreet as your parents. Goodnight, Miss Swan. Sheriff."

Emma bites back an instant rebuttal that no one can be as indiscreet as her parents, feeling Graham's hand slide into hers. It's warm against hers, so very warm and comforting and simply there.

She lifts her gaze to his face – and begins to wonder that if maybe, just maybe her discretion has started to fail her quite badly, because she can't seem to want to look away.

II

Charming leads her by the hand to their cabin, and Snow follows unsteadily. He pauses halfway there, gazing at her in worry, but she manages to a reassuring if tired smile. He doesn't look fooled by that, but he does lead on.

He closes the door behind them as they enter the cabin, and Snow exhales. She's been trying to stay strong for Emma, and it's only now that she lets it go that she feels the full weight of that.

"You should sleep," he says, squeezing her hand lightly. She stares at the bunk, feeling her exhaustion but also a dark, quiet sort of need. A need to feel something that isn't this fear and grief and pain. So she steps closer, looking down at their entwined fingers before looking up at him.

"No. I don't want to sleep yet," she says. He too, looks down at their entwined hands before breaking the handhold, instead taking her hand and caressing her palm with his fingers. The soft touch makes her sigh.

"Snow," he says, his nose brushing her as he lowers his head close to hers. She can feel his lips inches away from hers, his breath caressing the corners of her mouth. "Is this what you want? Comfort?"

"Charming," she murmurs, closing her eyes. "I want you. You are my comfort."

"Snow," he says, and she can hear the ache in his voice. Then his lips slip over hers, caressing, brushing and tugging gently. With one hand he strokes her cheek, her ear, her neck and her arm, while the other settles on her hip. She tip-toes into the kiss, feeling the heat of his body as it presses against hers.

His kiss remains soft, as he brushes her lower lip with his tongue before sucking on it. She moans at that, parting her lips, and his mouth closes over hers to deepen the kiss. She lifts her hands to cup his cheeks in response, pulling him closer and drawing her thumb across his cheekbone at the same time.

He makes a few noises at the back of his throat, then links his hands behind her back and lifts her up. The extra height this gives her allows her to change the angle of the kiss, drawing moans from him as she explores the familiar warmth of his mouth. She can feel him walk them both backwards the few steps to the bunk, a touch unsteady but without losing his balance. He holds her up for a few moments longer, then allows her to slide down his body to stand on her own feet again.

He breaks the kiss, lifting his thumbs to her lips instead. She just breathes as he traces the curve over her lower lip and then upper lip so very gently.

He lets his hands fall and pecks her lips lightly before taking off his shoes, pulling off his shirt and then unzipping his jeans. She just watches, letting her gaze stroke his skin and longing for the feel of it against her own. He sits down at the edge of the bunk as he pulls his pants and underwear completely off, and she steps closer to stand between his legs. He kisses her one, twice, thrice, quick kisses along her lips as she presses her palms against his chest, feeling it rise and fall with his breath.

"I love you," he says quietly as he pulls back slightly, and looks at her in a way that echoes the sentiment. His gaze keeps caressing her face as he moves his hands to the bottom of her sweater. She stands still as he peels it off her, unhooking her bra herself and seeing his breath catch at that.

He doesn't touch yet, though. His hands move to her waist again, steadying her as she steps out of her shoes. She moves her hands to rest on his shoulders for support as he pulls her pants off, then her underwear. As she steps as close as she can get, sighing at the feeling of his skin finally against hers, his mouth closes on her left breast and a hand cups her right. She can feel his tongue brush one nipple, and his thumb the other, and she arches into it.

The slight scruff – with all that has been going on, he must have forgotten or not cared to shave – is a strangely welcome sensation, even as she knows it will cause her skin to redden. As he bites lightly into her skin, her head rolls back and her legs feel unsteady. She doesn't fall, though. His knees are pressing against her skin of either side of her, helping to keep her in place, and he's snaked on hand around to her lower back to support her as well.

The touches are gentle, but relentless. As he lowers his hand, she bites into her lower lip as she knows what's coming. Even so, the first gentle brush of his thumb between her legs makes her whimper. He's so agonizingly gentle as he continues, slow caresses that still manage to make her breath catch.

Her mind starts feeling like it's filling with light and heat, pooling with every touch from Charming. It makes it easier not to think and easier to chase the shadows away, to feel alive, to feel loved, to feel like Snow – as she'll need to be. He's always had a way of reminding her who she is with a look, with a touch or with how he says her name. Perhaps it is because he knows her better than anyone, just as she knows him.

When he lowers his head to kiss her stomach, she laces her fingers through his short hair. His scalp feels warm against her fingertips, and she scrapes her nails gently downwards before pausing at his neck.

"Charming," she murmurs, and he tilts his head up to look at her through lowered eyelids. She imagines he must be able to see the flush in her cheek and hear her shallow breaths and know she's about to fall over from what he's doing to her, because he stands up, kissing her while turning her in a half-circle. Gently, without breaking the kiss, he eases her down on the bunk and follows himself.

The bunk isn't particularly spacious for two, but the lack of space strangely adds to the intimacy. Every inch of him feels close to her as he eases himself on top of her, using a hand to bend her knee and caress it at the same time. She can feel the curve of his buttocks against her leg as she lifts it to rest there, and she can feel something hard pressing against her stomach too. She can feel _him_ ; the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, the different textures of his skin against her own, the warmth of his mouth open to hers, the strength in his arms as he lifts himself up over her and the tension in his body as he pulls back and then slides into her.

She bites into his lower lip and he groans, but holds still. He brushes his tongue against hers instead, against her lips, and then deeper into her mouth. She moans, feeling him ease deeper into her too as her body adjusts to the familiar feel of him and relaxes. Finally, he begins moving, slowly pulling almost out and then pushing in, every slow stroke pushing her nearer to the edge but not over it.

He knows that, she's sure. Their bodies know each other, just as their hearts do, though he still manages to lure a surprised whimper out of her when he makes a quick, hard thrust unexpectedly. She can feel his lips turn upwards, so she clenches her muscles around him and hears him moan into her mouth. They both make noises after that, reverberating between them in the kiss, as his pace quickens and the friction, the touches, the kiss and all the sensations from her body become a roar in her mind.

Her head falls backwards as Charming steadies her, whispering something she know is loving simply by his tone even if she can't make out the words. He kisses her face too, her temple, her eyelids, her nose, her cheek, her chin, the corners of her mouth and then light, light kisses against her lips.

Her mind feels perfectly still, a wonderful moment of just nothing. She is vaguely aware of Charming pushing into her again and shuddering, then collapsing on top of her. She has enough strength to brush her hands down his back while he catches his breath, and kisses the skin along his collarbones.

"I love you," she whispers into his skin. "I love you so much I can't..."

Her breath catches, and he lifts himself up to look at her.

"This isn't just comfort, is it?" he asks softly, his voice hoarse. She shakes her head, closing her eyes as he cups her cheek in one hand. "Snow, what is it?"

She breathes, trying to find the words. "I need you."

"You have me. You always will," he promises. He can't really make that promise, of course. She has almost lost him far too often, and now they are sailing into new danger to find their beloved son. "I'm right here."

She pulls him down for a fierce kiss that he meets gently. He pulls the blankets properly over them as she keeps kissing him, his lips swollen and warm against hers.

She needs Charming, she needs Henry, she needs Emma. She needs her family. She even needs them to be Snow White, because without them she doesn't even know who she'd be anymore.

She's seen what Regina became without Daniel, after all. She doesn't want to imagine herself without Charming, or their family without Henry. She doesn't want to.

So she doesn't; instead she kisses her husband and lets it be her comfort.


	96. Chapter Ninety-Five

II

**Chapter Ninety-Five**

II

Present day

II

Greg isn't even sure what is worse anymore – Gold talking or not talking. His words are always quietly menacing, but so is his silence. And for half an hour now, Gold has simply been watching the dark sky. But intently, as if waiting for something.

"What do you intend to do with me?" Greg finally asks, unable to take the silence any longer.

"Under normal circumstances, I would kill you," Gold says casually, as if they're discussing something as ordinary as the weather. "You cost me my son. I've spent centuries finding him again. Do you know what it is like to live for one thing only and have it taken from you?"

"I lost my father because of what you did!" Greg hisses. "I know what it's like to have nothing to live for and everything to die for."

"Do you?" Gold asks flatly, tilting his head and regarding him for a moment. "Perhaps you do. But the Charmings seem to want you alive for now."

"And you take orders from them?" Greg says recklessly. Gold simply smiles, but there is nothing pleasant in it.

"How long have you been taking orders, Owen? Little Owen. It bothers you, doesn't it? That Tamara gave you orders and you had to follow. That you're still a little boy."

"I used her," Greg spits. "I used her to get my revenge."

"She used you," Gold counters, smiling faintly as if something is vaguely amusing. "If I gave you the chance to repay her for that, would you, little Own?"

"Shut up," Greg mutters. Tamara abandoned him. No, he can't think like that. She's had to have a reason. She wouldn't just... No.

Gold watches him like a hawk. "Haven't you wondered who you and Tamara have been working for?"

"I know who we're working for," Greg says defiantly.

"No," Gold replies and glances up at the sky. "You really, really don't. Allow me to introduce - your boss."

There is a shadow in the sky, Greg realizes with mounting horror. There is shadow and it's hissing at him as it slowly, slowly floats downwards.

He screams, and at that, Gold simply laughs.

II

Emma wakes abruptly, panting and wanting to cry out. For what, she isn't sure. Henry, maybe. Her parents, perhaps. Or even Graham, who is sleeping next to her with an arm across her stomach.

A nightmare, she realizes. What it was exactly apart from screaming, she isn't sure. It has already faded, leaving just the sense of unease and terror. Then again, she doesn't need nightmares for that. Just thinking of Henry missing will give her all that and more.

Carefully, she eases out of Graham's embrace and the bunk. She lets herself watch him for just a moment, taking comfort in the fact that he is here. How she can ever thank him enough, she isn't sure, but then she suspects thanks is not what he wants. In fact, she can feel what he wants every time he looks at her.

She gets dressed in the dark, managing to disentangle her clothes from Graham's. The ship is rocking softly as she heads out of the cabin and finds her way to the deck. It is still dark, but not complete darkness. It must be at least nearing pre-dawn, and thus eventually morning.

And then she sees it. There is a shadow in the air, hissing at Greg while Gold is simply watching calmly.

"What the hell?!" Emma calls out and the shadow fixes two burning eyes on her.

"Miss Swan..." Gold warns in a low voice.

Emma feels her magic rise in her, but before she can do anything, flames fill Gold's palm. The shadow hisses, staring at her for a second longer and then flying off into the dark of the sky.

"What the hell was that?!" Emma exclaims, just as the door bursts open and David and Mary Margaret hurry out. They're armed, but only half-dressed, meaning they must have just woken up and rushed outside.

"Emma?" Mary Margaret asks worriedly.

"I'm fine," Emma says, and David lowers his sword slightly. "There was something here, a shadow..."

"It was Peter Pan's shadow," Gold says. He still looks much too calm. "You shouldn't have drawn his attention, Miss Swan. I was hoping to have him fixated on me and our little prisoner here."

She stares at Gold. "You were baiting Peter Pan's shadow?"

"In a manner of speaking," Gold says calmly. "We are relatively safe out on the water, but he will come once we set foot on his land."

Emma stares at the island in the distance, almost shrouded in darkness. She can feel David and Mary Margaret walk up to her, Mary Margaret putting a hand on her shoulder.

"This is a children's world, Miss Swan," Gold goes on. "A world run by their imagination and their belief before it's tempered by adult sensibilities. This is a very dangerous world."

"Why would Tamara take Henry here?" David asks.

"I don't know," Gold admits, sounding troubled by that. "Perhaps because of who he is. He's my grandson, as well as Snow White and Prince Charming's. Or perhaps it is belief that has drawn Peter Pan's attention."

"He believed in the curse," Mary Margaret says quietly, exchanging a look with David. "He believed when no one else would."

"Belief is power," Gold says. "Especially in Neverland."

Emma shivers. She feels cold, and not just from the wind and the sea. "We have to find Henry."

"We will," David says quietly, but his voice is still filled with confidence and belief. She's beginning to see where Henry takes his faith and trust in happy endings from, and as always she feels just a touch jealous at it.

Happy endings seem so remote when you've had a beginning like she had.

"The shadow won't return, but we may have other company," Gold says after a moment. "I suggest you get dressed and armed."

David nods, and Emma realizes she's been holding his hand. She can't even remember taking it, or if he did, but here she is – hand in hand with her father. He squeezes it lightly and smiles almost shyly. Mary Margaret rubs her shoulder, and Emma isn't sure if it's too much or not enough.

"I'll go wake Graham," she says instead. "I'll see you in a bit."

With that, she hurries below deck, almost crashing into a very sleepy and groggy-looking Regina on the way. Regina simply rolls her eyes and continues up on deck, while Emma heads into her cabin to find Graham getting dressed.

He smiles as she enters. "I see how it is. The moment I don't have bacon, you leave me in the morning."

"Technically, it isn't morning yet," she points out, crossing her arms. "And I don't think this place has bacon, so I have no one to leave you for anyway."

"How reassuring," he says, and kisses her. She leans into it, feeling it warm her despite everything. As he pulls back, he cups her cheek and looks at her fondly.  
"We will find Henry, Emma."

Maybe belief didn't entirely skip a generation, Emma realizes, because between her father, her mother and Graham, she almost believes that.

II

Gold is staring at the sky as Regina walks up to him. Behind her, she can hear Snow and Charming head below deck, probably to get properly dressed.

"What was that about?" she asks Gold, who meets her gaze calmly. "You're always playing a game, Gold. I know you."

"You don't know me at all, dearie," Gold quips but she simply smiles. He may think that. He might think himself entirely hidden behind his act, but he is not. No, he is not at all.

"Whatever you're playing, the stakes won't be them," she says forcefully. "Not Snow and Charming, not Emma, not Henry. They're not your game pieces."

He giggles, reminding her of the Dark One as he was in the Enchanted Forest. "Dearie me, what would your mother think of this? Choosing love again?"

"I don't love..." she starts.

"Yes, _you do_ ," he says gleefully. "Don't worry, dearie. Your mother was dangerous because she had no heart. You can be dangerous because you do. You love that family."

"Fine," Regina says, staring at him. "Perhaps I do. But don't pretend you don't know what it's like. Don't pretend you don't know what it's like to feel something so filled with light surrounded by so much darkness."

Gold looks at her, his eyes softening for just a moment. Belle, she knows. Belle and Bae, the lights of Gold's existence. One may be lost to him now, but that still leaves the other.

"The stakes aren't them," he finally says. "So you needn't worry, dearie."

Something in his voice makes her not the least bit reassured. "So who are you risking?"

"Me," he says simply.

II

"I don't like it," David says and Snow hides a faint smile. David never likes anything involving Gold, as her husband is much too fond of being upfront and clear to enjoy the sort of games Rumpelstiltskin plays most of the time.

"He knows this land. We don't," she points out, as she pulls her jacket on.

"Hook knows it too," Charming says thoughtfully, strapping his sword on and walking over to help her with the quiver. "Perhaps we should have a chat with the good pirate at some point. I don't like going in blind."

"I do think Gold sincerely wants to help us," she comments, as Charming presses a kiss against the back of her neck while fastening her quiver.

"Yeah," he sighs. "I do too. But he is the Dark One, Snow. It's the how he'll help us I worry about."

"I know," she says softly, turning around to face him. He lowers his hands to her waist, caressing gently with his thumbs as she leans her forehead against his. "But we need all the help we can get. We have to save Henry."

He sighs, but doesn't protest. Instead he glances down and moves one hand to her stomach. "How are you feeling?"

"Nauseous," she admits, noticing the look of worry that passes across his face. "It's fine, Charming. I felt this way when I was carrying Emma too."

He kisses her forehead. "As I recall, I worried then too."

She smiles faintly at the memory. "As I recall, you worried too much."

"I worried just enough;" he replies, kissing her softly before she can protest. "You're my wife, Snow. That entitles me to a lot of worry, and when you're carrying our child, I'm entitled to twice as much."

"I think I..." she starts, trailing off as she hears something in the distance. "Do you hear that?"

Charming lifts his head, looking alarmed. "Singing."

It is. Distantly, someone is singing, a lament that makes Snow's hair stand on end. It feels as if someone has taken all her grief and put it to words, only in a different language. A language she can't understand, yet feels.

"Charming," she murmurs, grasping his hand in hers. He looks dazed, but nods. Slowly, they make their way up on deck. The others are already there, all listening, all looking sad.

"It's a mermaid," Hook says. He looks pained like all of them, and Snow finds herself wondering what he could have to grieve.

"Do they all sing like that?" Snow asks.

"No," Hook says. He glances up at the sky, where a faint color at the horizon is signaling the coming dawn. "There is only one mermaid who has a voice like that. Ariel."

"You know her?" Charming asks, looking surprised.

"Only by reputation," Hook says quietly. The singing is growing fainter, as if moving away from him. "She saved a human once. She fell in love with him, but he could not live in the sea and she could not live on land. They say she sings for him, and that she still saves those she can from the water in the hope it will be her love returned to her. She will not harm us. It's the rest of her kin we have to worry about."

"Mermaids," Emma says, her face still pained. Snow has to fight back an urge to run over and embrace her daughter and tell her everything will be all right, a mother's promise 28 years too late and bound to be broken anyway. "What else does this land hold?"

"Fairies," Gold says, as if the mere word is distasteful.

"Lost Boys," Hook adds.

"And some sort of hissing shadow," Emma comments, and Snow hides a smile at the very un-romantic description. "Sounds positively delightful. Let's get going."

"Miss Swan," Gold cuts in, and she glances over at him. "You were listening when I was telling you this is a dangerous land, I hope."

"Yeah," she says, and Snow has to admire the strength in Emma's voice. "And I'm sure you're listening when I tell you that _my son_... David and Mary Margaret's... Our son, whatever, is there and I don't care how dangerous it is."

"What she said," David says, and Snow nods as well. Even Regina nods, and Snow has to smile at that.

"Bravery and the Charmings," Gold says, the sigh in his voice so exaggerated Snow is almost sure he's actually not displeased about it at all.

II

Humans never hear, Ariel thinks as she swims. Oh, they listen, but they don't hear. She's learned that the hard way. She can sing and sing, and they all listen, and yet they don't truly hear.

How can they, up there, when the air doesn't carry her song like the water does?

Her song turns into a hum as she approaches the beach. He's still lying there, the man that she saved. She has nursed him as best she could, but he doesn't belong to the sea and so, she has given him back to the land.

(As she's done before, even with the one who seemed like he might truly hear her. He was of the land. She is of the sea.)

She sees him open his eyes as she lifts her head above the surface of the water. He looks tired and drained, but at least he is alive.

"Thank you," he murmurs. "Henry..."

"My name is Ariel," she says softly.

"No," he says, swallowing. "He's a young boy. Tamara, she took him. I have to save him, I... Emma."

His eyes roll back into his head and he passes out again as she watches. He can't save anyone until he's saved himself. But she might.

Henry, Ariel sings as she dives back into the water. Tamara. Emma. Their names become a song, and the sea carries it, as it always does.

Now they just have to hear.


	97. Chapter Ninety-Six

II

**Chapter Ninety-Six**

II

_Our world, the past_

II

_She'll have to give the child up, Emma knows. She's in prison, and Neal isn't exactly an option, and it's giving this boy the best chance. She has to. She's already decided to, already signed all the papers and now she just has to wait for the birth to see it finalized._

_It's no good imagining how it could have been different. No good at all. She used to imagine her parents, after all, and they never came. They probably never even looked. It was just a child's imagination, and that has no power at all, as it turned out. Better to not imagine at all._

_This is how it has to be. She has to give her son up. Give him his best chance, give him a family. A mom and a dad who will want him, she's been assured, good loving parents for this little boy growing inside her._

_He'll have what she didn't have. It's a sort of comfort, even if it feels bleak and cold. And so, she slowly strokes her stomach, feeling the occasional kick in response and tries very hard not to imagine anything at all._

II

Present day

II  
Neverland isn't quite what she imagined, Emma concludes as she steps onto the beach. 

In daylight, Neverland somehow manages to look even more ominous to her. It isn't because the island itself looks dangerous. More the opposite. The island almost seems to be a perfect island paradise, bathed in sunlight. Even so, it feels dark as she looks at it. A faint hum of magic seeming to emanate from it as well, making the hairs on her skin stand up. 

It doesn't feel like the magic in Storybrooke either. She can't quite articulate how or even how she knows, just that she feels it. 

The rough sea has left an impact on them too. Emma feels uneasy on her feet herself (though Graham's steady arm around her waist helps), Mary Margaret has already thrown up over the side of the small boat and is now leaning against David as he helps her ashore, and Regina grimaces now and then as she walks unsteadily. Only Gold seems not bothered, walking across the sand as if it was simply the main street of Storybrooke. 

The jungle seems thick and foreboding in front of them, and Emma almost wishes they would stay at sea. In fact, the sea itself seems to sing her name, as if it's calling to her. 

“What is it?” Graham asks softly. 

She shakes her head, not sure how to explain what she's feeling without sounding weird herself. “Nothing, just... The sooner we find Henry and get home the better.”

“Agreed,” David says firmly. Mary Margaret looks up from his shoulder and nods, her face pale. He kisses the side of her head gently, which might have made Emma look away in the past but now simply makes her smile. 

Hook is the last one stepping onto the beach, securing their boat and then walking over to them.

“I assume we will want a plan for this rescue?” he asks. 

“I always have a plan,” Gold says, giving Hook a pointed look. A moment later, purple fog swirls around him and his clothes change into something Emma can only stare at. It's some sort of leather outfit, almost reminding her of scales. It's all she can do to bite back an instant 'what the hell?' exclamation.

No one else seems surprised at the outfit at all. Hook narrows his gaze, Regina rolls her eyes and Graham looks thoughtful. David just looks resigned while Mary Margaret looks troubled. 

“Good luck, dearies,” Gold says cheerfully. Far too cheerfully. He's smiling too, an impish smile that makes Emma uneasy. 

“You're leaving?” she asks sharply.

“No,” Gold says “I'm going solo. I don't play well with others. I don't share my toys. I'll be looking for my grandson my way. Don't worry. I'll find you if I succeed. If I fail, it won't hurt you too badly to leave me behind.”

“Gold...” David starts, but Gold holds out a hand. 

“I know what Belle probably asked of you,” Gold says quietly to them. “She'll understand. She won't blame you.”

“She'll hope,” David counters after a moment. “So should you. Even if you're determined to do this, don't give up on yourself or us. Good luck.”

Gold looks at David almost wistfully for a moment, then bows his head just slightly. It's the most respect Emma has ever seen him give anyone, and she wonders why it is her father who's getting it. 

And then magic swirls again and Gold is gone, reducing their party to six. 

“There's the old crocodile we all know and don't love at all,” Hook says cheerfully, which Emma just rolls her eyes at and ignores. She supposes it takes a while to truly let go of a murderous hatred, so she'll give Hook slight credit for sticking to sarcasm rather than resorting to bodily harm.

“What the hell was that about?” she says instead. 

“That was about returning to form,” Regina says shortly. “Gold was just a persona tailored to Storybrooke. It's not who he is, even if it is who you knew him as. He's the Dark One, Miss Swan. Get used to that.”

David and Mary Margaret exchange a glance, and it suddenly occurs to Emma that they might feel the same way about their Storybrooke names and personas. She has heard them use their fairytale names quite often, but they've never said anything about her use of David and Mary Margaret for them. Calling them Snow and Charming still seems such a strange concept, though slightly less strange here and with them armed with swords and bow and arrows. 

Of course, there is a way to avoid using names altogether with them and simply call them mom and dad, but Emma isn't sure just how ready she is for that. Her voice still catches every time she does, but it is becoming easier and easier to imagine them as her mom and dad.

She can even imagine how they would have been as her parents, raising her and loving her from childhood. Oh yeah, she can imagine that now so well that it hurts. She's seen them with Henry, so it's easy enough to imagine that they would be exactly the same with her. 

The island hums. The hairs at the back of her neck stand up. Magic seems to tingle in her fingers and a wave of dizziness seems to crash over her and then depart again. 

Regina looks over at her suddenly and narrows her eyes, but no one else seems to notice. 

“Careful with magic here,” Regina says to her in a low voice, and Emma balls her hands into fists, still feeling the tingle in her fingers. She nods faintly, not even sure what she's doing. 

“The Lost Boys will be coming to pay us a visit,” Hook is saying, she realizes, focusing on him. “They don't take kindly to trespassers.”

“Would they have taken unkindly to Tamara?” David asks. 

“Probably,” Hook admits. “Are you implying we should simply wait for them to find us to discover if they've also found your son?”

“Yes,” David replies. “Even if Tamara evaded them, they might give us an idea where to start looking.”

“We don't know how many would come,” Mary Margaret comments, glancing up at David. “They could overwhelm us.”

“I could track them,” Graham offers. “We could find them before they find us.”

“We could infiltrate them,” Regina suggests. “Magic is different here, but I might be able to disguise us as children.”

Emma suddenly imagines herself as she was in her childhood, so young and scared and lost. She might not have been stuck on an island, but she knows what it's like to be lost. Oh, how she knows it very well.

Her hands tingle and the humming grows. 

“Bad idea,” Hook counters, and Emma tries to focus on his voice. “Children can't leave this place. The shadow doesn't let them. If it saw any of us as children, it might not let us leave again.”

“We're not leaving without Henry either way,” Mary Margaret says firmly and Emma finds herself nodding. 

“What about adults?” Graham asks. 

“The shadow seems more inclined to kill them than keep them,” Hook says, his tone all mock cheerfulness. “But if we survive, it might let us all go. That is, if we survive everything else Peter Pan himself will throw at us. I gather bravery seems to be a family trait for you, but this is someone you all should fear.”

“Henry's our son,” David says simply and Emma closes her eyes and feels dizzy. “It's not about bravery. It's about family.”

“Our family,” Mary Margaret chimes in.

Family, Emma imagines. Her whole body seems to be tingling and she only distantly hears Regina call her name. She can't stop imagining it all, as if she's falling and there is nothing to hold on to. 

“Emma?” Graham asks, but she's falling away from him too. 

Family.

Her mom and dad.

Emma Swan, a lost girl. Such a lost girl.

She imagines it all and the hum of the magic becomes a roar. 

II

_Our world, the past_

II

_Emma is imagining her parents again._

_It's a game she plays sometimes, a game where she imagines her parents didn't abandon her by the side of a road but simply lost her. Whenever a new foster family passes her on, whenever there is no foster family for her, whenever no one tucks her in at night – that's when she likes to play it._

_In her imagination, certain details change. Sometimes, they're simply a normal family. Sometimes, they're heroes who had to hide her from evil forces. Sometimes, she's the hero who finds them._

_Yet certain things never change. They always truly wanted her and only circumstances got in the way. They always love her beyond anything. And they always want to make a family with her now._

_Emma's mom and dad. If she imagines them hard enough, it's almost as if they're real._

II

“Emma!” Charming calls out desperately at the same time as Snow, as magic engulfs their daughter in purple. Graham falls backwards, staring wide-eyed at where Emma was just standing. Regina is cursing, he can hear, a colorful mix of Storybrooke and Enchanted Forest expressions. 

Snow is a step ahead of him with reaching for their daughter, so when the magic clears, it's her arms the little girl steadies against.

He stares dumbstruck. Where Emma was, there is now a little girl of maybe four or five years. Blonde curls frame her face, the eyes a familiar color as she looks up at him and then Snow with wide eyes.

“Is that...?” Hook says. He sounds utterly taken aback. 

“Yes. Magic here is different,” Regina says, but Charming is only distantly aware of her voice. “I could feel it calling to her, but I didn't realize it would do this. Her magic must be stronger than I realized. She is the product of true love, after all, and the savior.”

“She's...” Graham says, trailing off. 

“Emma,” Snow says, her voice breaking. She kneels down, drawing her hands across Emma's face, shoulders and then arms. 

It is, David knows. It's their daughter, there is no doubt in his heart at all. Hesitantly, he lifts a hand to touch her shoulder and Emma looks at him with slight fear, but also so much longing it's staggering. It's all staggering and he drops down to his knees.

_Emma_ , he thinks. 

“Mommy?” Emma asks, looking at Snow hopefully and sadly at once. “I imagined you.” 

“Yeah, honey, I am your mommy,” Snow manages to say, pulling Emma into a gentle hug. Snow looks torn between horror and heartbreak, as he is. This is how Emma looked as a child. This is their daughter, this is Emma as...

“Daddy?” Emma says, turning her gaze to him and he just nods, words beyond him. He puts his hand on her head, stroking her hair gently. It seems to soothe her, because she closes her eyes. 

“Does she know who we are?” Graham asks. “Emma?”

In response, Emma simply buries her face against Snow's shoulder. 

“I think she only knows her parents,” Regina says softly. “She would have imagined them as a child, I assume. Lost children often do.” 

Snow meets Charming's eyes over Emma's head, her eyes bright with tears. He nods, lifting his free hand to her back and stroking gently. 

“I know you're probably slightly distracted right now, mate,” Hook says, touching Charming's shoulder. “But it might interest you all to know we have company.”

Charming turns his head to see a group coming out of the jungle and heading towards them. All boys, all clad in cloaks, all looking menacing. 

The Lost Boys have come.


	98. Chapter Ninety-Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While this story has always been AU, I would like to note that since I am writing the Neverland part of this story prior to S3 airing, my take on Neverland will probably differ from the show's quite a bit.

II

**Chapter Ninety-Seven**

II

Present Day

II

Rumpelstiltskin knows he's being watched, and doesn't really bother to hide the fact that he knows this. Under other circumstances he might pretend to be surprised at a cloaked figure stepping out of the shadows in front of him, but this time he merely raises an eyebrow and waits.

There is a time for pretense and acts. This is not it. Not with Bae dead (he doesn't dare indulge hope otherwise) and Bae's son in danger. And at the back of his mind he remembers what a seer once told him – that a boy not lost but taken would be his undoing. 

Henry, perhaps. Henry might be his undoing, but Henry is Bae's son. Right now, that matters most of all.

“You're welcome in Neverland, Rumpelstiltskin,” the cloaked figure says, and Rumpelstiltskin tilts his head. It's the boy named Felix, he notices. A boy who hasn't changed much at all, like all the boys here. “Pan sends his regards. You may stay as long as you wish.”

“I don't wish to stay, dearie,” Rumpelstiltskin says and Felix looks at him. “I am here to retrieve something.”

“The boy is not for you,” Felix says and Rumpelstiltskin smiles. So Henry is here and Peter Pan is aware of it. “Anyone coming for him would be Pan's enemy.”

“Just like old times,” Rumpelstiltskin replies merrily and steps closer. “And before you tell me I won't survive this, I already know. _I don't care_. But I will care about how many of you I take with me. I won't settle for less than half.”

Felix doesn't even blink. “Then we will meet again, Dark One.”

Rumpelstiltskin smiles faintly. Felix still doesn't even flinch. It tells Rumpel that Pan has something up his sleeve. There is too much confidence in this... This errand boy. 

“He also left you a gift,” Felix says cheerfully and Rumpelstiltskin lets out an exaggerated sigh. Theatrics are so dull when done by anyone who isn't him. 

“What gift does the great Peter Pan bestow upon this not-humble Dark One?” he asks, putting just the right amount of boredom into his voice. 

“You'll see,” Felix says and slips into the shadows again. Vague threats, an unwelcome welcome committee and conformation that Pan is aware of Henry and wants something with the boy. What fun. He even lets out a giggle for those watching him, making sure they hear what fun he thinks it is.

They don't need to see his twice-broken heart, once for Bae and once for Belle. They can go on thinking he has no heart at all, as almost all in the Enchanted Forest and in Storybrooke did. The heartless Dark One. 

Cora ripped out her own heart not to feel love, he remembers. And yet he was never tempted. Not even now, not even with a broken heart twice over. 

Even if it will be his undoing, he will hold on to his heart and honor Bae. 

II 

“Charming,” Snow says in a low voice, as they both watch the group of young boys coming out of the jungle. He meets her gaze, then nods and takes Emma from Snow's arms into his as he stands up.

“Hold on to daddy,” he whispers, and Emma's small hands dig into the cloth of his shirt. She nods too, looking brave and determined and afraid all at once. With one arm firmly holding his daughter, he pulls out his sword with the other. 

Snow has already pulled her bow back, an arrow at the ready. Graham has pulled out a gun, while Hook has gone for a sword and a dagger. Regina has fire crackling in her hands, but he can see that she is struggling to keep it burning. Magic is different here, he remembers her saying. 

“Hello, boys,” Hook says cheekily, but Charming is beginning to see beyond the cheek now and decides he can learn to live with it. 

“Hook,” one of the boys says. The light tone of his voice makes Charming flinch. He really wishes they didn't sound so young, but he will fight them if it's needed to protect Emma. “Who are your friends?”

“My new crew,” Hook replies glibly. “Cabin boys and girls.”

“Cabin women,” Snow corrects and Charming has to smile at that despite everything. How very Snow. 

But the Lost Boy doesn't seem all that captivated by Snow (unlike Charming, who knows himself caught). It's Emma that draws the boy's attention. He has his gaze firmly on her and Charming narrows his eyes in response. 

“That one looks like a girl,” the boy says. “All children on this island belong to Peter Pan.”

“Like hell,” Charming says firmly. 

“Not this one,” Snow says at the same time, drawing her bowstring another inch back. “This is our girl.”

“And we're not giving her up,” Charming adds and lifts his sword. The sunlight catches it, making the sharp edges gleam. The Lost Boys exchange glances, clearly considering their options. 

Then they rush at them. 

The first two boys are sent flying by Regina's magic, while Snow fires an arrow into the shoulder of another. Then the group is upon them and the clang of steel against steel is overwhelming. Emma hides her face against his shoulder as he blocks an attack, and the memory of the last time he fought with her in his arms lurks painfully at the back of his mind. 

He nearly gave his life then. He will this time, if it will keep Emma and Snow safe – but all things considered, he would very much like to be alive. He'd like to see Henry grow into a young man, Emma grow into a family at last (provided they find a way to reverse this magic) and the little cupcake on the way become a baby in Snow's arms. So he fights for that too, deflecting blows and keeping an eye on Snow as much as he can.

Not that he need worry. She can handle herself, using her bow to trip a Lost Boy before firing another arrow. Graham is avoiding using bullets, Charming notes, using the handgun as a melee weapon instead. Hook is simply disarming his opponents, while Regina is making a wall of sand with magic.

Together, they can do this and repel the attack, Charming thinks – and then he hears the noise. It isn't something he can put to words, as it resembles nothing else he's heard, but it makes his head ache and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“Pan,” Hook says darkly. He looks at Emma and Charming and Snow, ramming an elbow into a Lost Boy at the same time “Go. It's Emma they want. She's a child now.”

“But...” Charming starts, but Hook just shakes his head.

“Can't fight him, mate. This isn't the place for fairytale heroics. This is Neverland. Go.”

“Go,” Regina echoes, staring at the jungle. The shadows between the trees seem to lengthen. Something – or someone - is coming. 

“Go,” Graham says, looking at Emma with an expression filled with such loss it makes Charming draw a sharp breath. He knows that look; he's felt exactly the same at the prospect of never seeing Snow again. For Graham, this must be simply heartbreaking. For Snow and himself, Charming knows it's far more complicated than that. 

“He won't want us,” Hook says, turning to look at Chaming. “He'll want Emma, not us. We'll find you afterwards. _Go_.”

Charming doesn't hesitate any longer, taking Snow's hand and pulling her with him. They run. He can hear at least two follow judging by the running footsteps, but a few sharp cries later he knows Regina has somehow tripped their pursuers. He throws one look behind to see that Hook, Graham and Regina seem to have the Lost Boys under control, but that the shadows of the jungle have lengthened even more. 

Dark magic, he is certain, but not the sort of dark magic Regina used to practice in the Enchanted Forest when she was still the Evil Queen. No. This feels different somehow, wilder and with different rules. 

Then the other side of the jungle greets them and they duck in between the trees, not slowing down.

II

“He will want us, won't he?” Regina asks, trying to remember how to breathe. Magic is harder here – she has to focus on it, will it, imagine it and she's used to simply feel it. Her magic has always been tied to her emotions – it was dark and destructive when anger and grief fueled her. Now it is increasingly driven by other emotions, especially the one she's still uncomfortable naming.

“Of course,” Hook says quietly, disarming a Lost Boy almost lazily. “He'll want Emma most of all, but he'll take us too.”

“Right,” Graham says. He sounds resigned, but brave. She's seen him like this before. Always so ready to die for the right cause. For Snow then. For Emma now. 

It's she who is different. She was always so ready to kill for all the wrong reasons. Now it's come to this, bravery and foolishness and a willingness to die for those she loves. 

Daniel would have loved to see her like this, she knows, and yet that's not why she's doing it. He would have loved that even more. 

Hook gives her a look, then slips his hand into hers. It's a strange gesture from a pirate, but perhaps not from Killian Jones. Behind all that cheek and innuendo there is someone, someone she might even like. 

The shadows reach them. A boy steps out of the jungle and the Lost Boys scatter in fear at the sight. 

But it isn't Peter Pan. It is a boy, but it isn't Peter Pan. Oh no. It is someone she knows and her heart falls. 

“Henry,” Regina says. 

It is Henry – and yet isn't. He has no shadow, she realizes, and yet his eyes are as dark as one. 

II

Charming isn't sure how long they've run when Snow pulls him into a small cave. They're both breathing heavily, and the sound seems to fill the small space. 

“Daddy? Is mommy...?” Emma whispers. Gently, he sits down on a rock and lowers Emma into his lap to look at her. Snow sits down next to him, tucking Emma's hair behind her ear and smiling at her.

“It's okay, honey,” Snow says. “We're both here.”

Emma watches Snow's face, biting her thumb while Snow continues to smooth her hair. It seems to calm Emma, because her gaze is far less worried when it moves to him.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hey,” Emma echoes. For a moment, she looks at him. Then she puts her thumb on his scar, looking curious. He watches her face as she strokes the outline of the scar a few times, and marvels at the way her brow furrows just like his.

“Mommy gave daddy that scar,” he explains after a moment, smiling at Snow.

“Was she mad at you?” Emma asks in a thin voice. She looks afraid at the thought and Charming gets a sudden sinking feeling that young Emma might know far too much about anger and hurt. 

“No,” Snow says hurriedly, cupping Emma's cheek. “No, it wasn't like that. We don't hurt each other, Emma. We love each other. We love you too.”

Emma doesn't look convinced, and he can see Snow force back tears at their daughter's reaction. He also has to swallow the lump in his throat that threatens to choke him, leaning forward and kissing Emma's head firmly yet gently. 

“Mommy is right,” he says when he trusts his voice. “We will _never_ hurt you. We'll do everything we can to stop anyone from hurting you ever again.”

“Like the boys?” Emma asks. She looks down at his sword as if that is somehow comforting. 

“Like the boys,” Charming confirms. “Anyone, Emma. Bad men, scary monsters, dragons, a sheriff...”

“ _Charming_.”

“Just saying, Snow,” he says, and her gaze is equal parts stern and amused. 

“What's a sheriff?” Emma asks. Her brow furrows again.

“Someone who protects people,” Snow says. “Like Graham. Graham is a sheriff.”

Emma seems to think about that. “I want a sheriff.”

Charming bites back the first response that comes to mind, namely that she has one already. 28 years too late, she has people to protect her. 

“How about a mommy and daddy?” he suggests instead. “Would you want that?”

Emma nods. It's what she wanted at this age more than anything, he realizes. Even if she doesn't say it out loud, he can still read it on her face. It's what he and Snow wanted to; what they wanted more than anything: to raise Emma, to be her mommy and daddy though everything. 

It's what they can't have. They can't let her stay a child just to have what they wanted, can't take away the wonderful woman Emma is now. For Henry, for Graham and for Emma herself they have to find a way to reverse this.

And yet he lets himself enjoy the sight of the little girl now leaning forward to rest her head against Snow's shoulder – just as it should have been.


	99. Chapter Ninety-Eight

II

**Chapter Ninety-Eight**

II

Present Day

II

“Henry,” Regina says again, her mind reeling. For a moment, the boy only looks blankly at her. It is strangely terrifying and heartbreaking all at once. She wants to scream for him to recognize her, to know her, to look at her in that bright happy way he always does. Henry. She watched him grow up as Mary Margaret's son, watched him befriend her father, watched him love so easily and without limit. 

And then finally, recognition does flash across Henry's face.

“Regina,” he says hesitantly, as if trying it out first. “Regina.”

“Yes, Henry,” she says. He runs at her and she falls to her knees and embraces him in a tight hug. 

“Regina,” Henry says again, half a whimper, half a plea.

“Yes, Henry,” she says, biting back her fear and anger and grief. She can't afford those emotions right now. They will fuel her later, but right now, she needs to hide them from him. “Everything is going to be fine.”

“What happened to him?” Graham asks.

“Peter Pan happened,” Hook says, his voice dark. 

Henry burrows his head into Regina's shoulder, which tells her that is exactly what happened. She runs her hand up and down his back soothingly, giving Hook a pointed look to tell him not to talk about this in front of Henry. Hook seems to get the hint, just grimacing. 

“Mom and dad and Emma,” Henry whispers. 

“They're alive, Henry,” Regina says, pulling back to look at Henry's pale face. His eyes are dark, so very dark, and she forces back a shudder. “They're here in Neverland with us.”

“He said there were no parents here and it was better this way,” Henry says, and she knows the 'he' must be Peter Pan. 

“It's not better that way,” Regina says, thinking of her father. Her flawed, weak but loving father. She would rather have him than none at all – or one without a heart. “Do you think it's better that way?”

“No,” Henry says miserably. He closes his eyes. “I want mom and dad and Emma. I want...”

“Shh,” she soothes, hugging him again. “We're going to find them. But first I need you to be brave, okay Henry?”

He nods, every inch Snow and Charming's son and Emma Swan's son. Always so brave. She admires it and fears it at the same time. 

“I need you to tell me what happened after you fell into the portal,” she says and touches Henry's cheek gently. He swallows, then nods.

“We fell,” he says. His voice is thin and so young, far too young. “We fell into the water. I tried to hold on to Neal but Tamara wouldn't let me.”

Hook makes a soft hiss. He knew Neal as Bae, she remembers. Perhaps he too learned to care for a boy when he thought all there was room for in his heart was loss and revenge. She can relate to that. Oh yes.

“I think Neal drowned,” Henry goes on and she wants to hug him and never let go. “Tamara swam us to shore. I fought her. I tried to run away from her.” 

“I know you did,” Regina says, smiling encouragingly. 

Henry doesn't even blink. “The Lost Boys found us. They said I was the boy Peter Pan had been looking for. And he...”

“He what, Henry?” Regina presses softly, knowing it causes Henry pain to remember but knowing that if they are to fix this, they have to know what happened.

“He ripped my shadow from me and took my heart,” Henry says and she can hear Graham's sharp intake of breath. “He said he needed the heart of the truest believer. Then he let me go, but all the other boys were afraid of me.”

Regina can feel Hook stare at her, but she focuses on Henry instead. “It's okay, Henry. Hearts can be returned.”

“They can,” Graham confirms. He kneels down and Henry looks at him. 

“I remember,” Henry says slowly. “In the book. The Evil Queen took your heart because you didn't kill Snow White.”

Regina winces. Put like that, it sounds so wrong, yet in that moment it felt so right. He had failed her and she punished him. That was a good enough reason then.

“She returned it,” Graham says, glancing over at Regina. His gaze doesn't hold forgiveness exactly, but no anger either. Given his relationship with Miss Swan, she supposes she and him will have to get used to being around each other. Because Snow and Charming will never let go of Emma again, and Regina isn't going to let go of Snow and Charming. 

Henry reaches out, putting his hand against Graham's chest. He must feel heartbeats, because he nods slowly. If it gives him hope, she doesn't know. She can't read his eyes. 

“How did you find us, Henry?” Regina asks softly and the boy looks over at her again.

“The sea was singing my name,” he says and Hook looks up sharply. Regina looks up at him and he mouths 'Ariel' at her. The mermaid he mentioned earlier. But how would Ariel know Henry's name? 

“What happened to Tamara?” Graham asks and Henry closes his eyes. 

“I... I did something to her,” he says haltingly. “After he took my shadow, he told me I was free. He told me to imagine freely. Tamara was screaming at him for betraying her, for betraying her home or something, for bringing magic into her world. She shot mom and dad and Neal. I just wanted her to shut up.”

Graham and Hook both manage to keep their faces sympathetic and without judgment, Regina has to give them that. Hook is probably not in a position to judge given his past behavior, while Graham might be but clearly chooses not to.

Then again, she's seen both of them eye Greg darkly, Graham included. They've all felt what it's like to want to hurt someone. Might be part of the reason Greg remains tied up on Hook's ship rather than being dragged with them, a far more merciful fate than she would have granted him. She's even considered taking Greg's heart to ensure he helps them, but she has so far resisted the urge.

Being good has its disadvantages too, that's true. But of course, she doesn’t really need to be the virtue of goodness personified. No. Snow and Charming can do that. And Regina, Regina can simply be good enough and now and then do what has to be done. 

“I know, Henry,” she says. “What happened?”

“I took her voice,” Henry says. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a shell that is glowing brightly with magic. “I imagined it gone and then it was. They let her run off afterwards.”

Regina keeps her face carefully composed while letting her mind race. Taking someone's shadow doesn't just take something from them, she realizes. It gives something too. Unless Henry has always had power in him too, as Emma has. Emma was born of true love while Henry was raised by it. Maybe, maybe... 

“Magic always has a price,” Henry goes on. He looks sad. “That's what mom and dad say. Am I going to pay it?”

“No,” Regina swears. “You've already paid far too much for everyone else's magic. Your whole family has.” 

Henry still looks miserable, so Regina hugs him to her. Gently, she takes the shell from his hand and puts it in one of her pockets instead. This is a land of imagination, but she's afraid that imagining Tamara getting her voice back is not something she's inclined to do at this point. 

“Your mom and dad will be very happy to see you, Henry,” she says, and that she doesn't have to imagine at all. She just knows. 

II

“Should we look for them or do you think Regina will find us?” Charming asks her and Snow sighs softly. She's been wondering that herself. If Emma is who the Lost Boys want, then staying out of sight might keep the boys preoccupied searching. On the other hand, Snow doesn't like leaving friends (and one pirate acquaintance) behind. 

“I don't know,” she tells him honestly and they both glance down at Emma. Their now-young daughter is sleeping, head in Snow's lap and feet in Charming's. She looks peaceful and beautiful like this, every now and then making a soft noise. 

This is what they never got to do, Snow knows. Be Emma's mommy and daddy. Part of her feels almost happy that she is getting a glimpse of what it might have been like, but another part of her is howling with the sense of renewed loss. 

They held Henry like this too, she remembers, and her heart aches for her son. They have to find him. They have to. 

“Perhaps one of us could...” Charming starts, and Snow presses a finger against his lips before he can finish.

“No!” she says harshly but quietly, not wanting to wake Emma. “You are not going out there to look for the others alone. I'm tired of this family having to find each other.”

His face softens and he shifts position slightly to lean his forehead against hers. Emma sighs in her sleep, but doesn’t wake up. 

“I just want our happy ending,” Snow goes on and Charming kisses the finger she still has against his lips. “I want to find Henry, restore Emma and then never have to find any of you ever again.”

She lowers her hand to Emma's head, stroking it softly while Charming rubs his nose against hers.

“Perhaps a change in family motto is in order,” he suggests. “How does 'I will always be there with you' sound?”

“Wonderful,” she murmurs. Always be with Charming, and with Emma, Henry and the kid on the way. Yeah. She could do that. “Or 'I will always be there for you.'”

“Also good,” he says, putting his hand on hers, stroking Emma's hair with her. “Or 'I will always love you.'”

She smiles at that. “Or 'I will always be yours.'”

“Am I ever,” he says and kisses her. It's soft, caressing her lips with his own, changing the angle of it every now and then. 

“Mommy?” Emma asks a few moments later and Snow can feel Charming's lips curve into a smile against hers. He gives her another soft peck before pulling away.

“We should really learn not to do that with our daughter in our laps,” he comments before looking down at Emma. “Hey princess. How are you feeling?”

“Confused,” Emma says. She bites on her thumb again and Snow feels the lump in her throat grow. Their daughter used to bite her thumb. “Had a weird dream.”

“What about, honey?” Snow asks lightly, trying to keep all of her conflicting emotions out of her voice. 

“A boy,” Emma says. “The sea. Singing.”

“I never liked the sea,” Charming confesses after a moment and Emma looks at him as if trying to judge if he's sincere or not. “It's wet.”

Emma giggles at that, sitting up. Charming moves her gently, letting her sit on his knee between him and Snow. The sight makes Snow's heart ache from how right it looks. Her husband holding their daughter. It's the sort of image she would have taken photos of endlessly and plastered their home with as Mary Margaret, she knows. In fact, she did, just with Henry. 

“I like mud,” Emma confesses shyly.

“I do too,” Charming says. “I was a very muddy little shepherd boy when growing up.”

“I like mud too,” Snow adds and finds two pair of eyes look at her in disbelief. “I just admired it from afar when I was young.”

Charming laughs softly. “Maybe we should introduce mommy to mud so it doesn't have to be a long distance relationship.”

Emma nods, and the bright hope on her daughter's face is heartbreaking. To be so happy for such a little thing like getting muddy with her parents, that tells Snow that their daughter didn't have much of anything at this age. 

“Mommy is more of a snow person than a mud person,” Snow says and Charming smirks at that. He's probably remembering winters past. Even as Mary Margaret, she always had an affinity for snow. Then again, he never complained much when she trapped him under her in the snow and kissed him breathless. 

“Mommy is Snow,” he corrects, leaning down to whisper conspiratorially with Emma. “She's the Queen of Snowballs, the monarch of Snow-forts and the ruler of all things winter. But if you and I team up, I am sure we could take her down and claim the throne for Princess Emma.”

“But it's not winter,” Emma says, sounding confused. 

“Right,” Snow says hurriedly. “I'm sure your daddy meant if...”

“If you still want me then,” Emma says sadly and her face falls. It makes Snow want to scream at the injustice of it all, that Emma grew up thinking she was not wanted and came to always assume that. 

It also explains a lot about the walls adult Emma has. 

“No,” Snow says firmly and Charming nods. “If you still want to when winter comes, that's what daddy meant. You might grow up and think you're too old for that by winter.”

Charming looks down sadly. He must know as Snow does, that by winter in Storybrooke, they must have found some way to restore Emma to being an adult again. They'll never have the chance to play with her in the snow. They did it with Henry, they'll do it with their future child, but they'll never get the chance with Emma. It's lost. 

Silently, they clasp hands, their fingers entwining. Even the grief they do together, and Snow finds some comfort in that. 

“I don't want to grow up,” Emma says defiantly in the silence. 

“She doesn’t have to,” a bright female voice says, the sound of it reminding Snow of bells and chimes in the wind. There is someone here with them, Snow realizes. Charming puts his arms around Emma protectively while she stands up, reaching for her bow. Out of the shadows, something bright and glittery floats towards them. It leaves a trail that sparkles in the air. 

A fairy, Snow realizes. A blonde, golden fairy with bright blue eyes. She's about the same size as the Blue Fairy was in their land. But this is a Neverland fairy, and Snow has no idea if they're even similar and if this is a friend or foe. 

Charming suddenly does a sharp intake of breath, and she glances over at him.

“Tink?” he says in disbelief while Emma looks at the fairy with fascination. “Is that you?”

“David!” the fairy says happily and Snow looks from her husband to the fairy and then back again, then lowers her bow. Charming knows this fairy? Knows this Tink, who is... A memory from Mary Margaret reading Peter Pan pushes its way to the surface. Oh. She does know this fairy, though only by reputation – unlike her husband, it seems.

“Tinkerbell?” Snow says and the fairy makes a happy noise, like bell being struck.


	100. Chapter Ninety-Nine

II

**Chapter Ninety-Nine**

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_Sheep aren't meant to fly._

_Yet this one is, and David watches as it floats through the air, wondering if he's dreaming again. (Usually, he dreams of finding enough treasure to help Mama with their farm so she doesn't have to work so hard – Mama always smiles sadly when he tells her about those dreams and tells him to dream of beautiful princesses instead.) It seems so impossible that a sheep would fly outside of dreams, but then he hears a soft laughter and sees something glittery disappear between the trees. The sheep follows, still floating but gaining speed now._

_“You give it back!” he calls and runs. The laughter echoes between the trees, and it isn't particularly hard to follow. It's almost as if whoever took his sheep wants him to follow, wants him to..._

_The thought registers and he jumps just in time as the net springs up from the ground, narrowly avoiding being caught by it._

_The sheep floats down and the glittery shape does as well. It's a fairy, he sees now. Blonde and bright and looking dejected. Her disappointment is so palpable that his own anger fades._

_“Give me back my sheep,” he says, breathing hard. “Mama and I need all our sheep.”_

_“I was only borrowing it!” the fairy protests, her voice melodic and reminding him of wind chimes. “It was only for fun.”_

_“Stealing isn't fun,” he says, and she sighs as if he's no fun at all._

_“Trapping people is!” she counters after a moment. Then she looks sad. “When it works.”_

_“It almost did,” he says, feeling a strange urge to comfort her. “If I ever have to catch anyone, I might use it.”_

_The fairy lights up, twinkling happily at the thought. She floats closer, looking at him with a mischievous look._

_“I'm David,” he says._

_“Tink,” she says. “Can I keep you?”_

II

Neverland, present day

II

“You know Tinkerbell?” his wife asks, and David nods faintly. His brief childhood fairy friend is beaming at him, looking happy. 

“She stole a sheep from me when I was a child,” he says, and as expected, Tink looks indignant at that.

“Borrowed!” Tink protests and he smiles softly. 

Snow glances up at him, then catches his silent promise of giving her the full story later, nodding at him. Emma is staring at the fairy with rapt attention, he notices, and then lifts a hand and reaches for her. Rather than flying away, Tink laughs and blows fairy dust on her. Emma laughs in delight. 

“She's fun!” Tink says, sounding delighted. She looks over at him and her face grows more skeptical. “You've grown old.”

“Yeah,” he admits. “But I'm not sad about that, Tink. I was happy as a boy, but if I had stayed one I wouldn't have met Snow, wouldn't have fallen in love, wouldn't have made a family on my own. Growing up isn't just losing something – it's gaining something too.”

Tink looks unconvinced, but Snow takes his hand and kisses his shoulder softly. It makes Tink glance skeptically at Snow. 

“This is Snow White,” he says softly. “She's my wife, and this is Emma, our daughter. We're looking for our son Henry – have you seen him?”

Tink looks almost guilty. “Yes.”

Snow draws a quick breath by his side. “Where?”

Tink folds her arms over her chest, making an unhappy noise.

“Please?” David says. “He's our son. If he's not returned to us then that would be stealing rather than borrowing.”

Tink looks torn. “I can't tell you. I promised.”

“But you can show us?” he suggests, feeling his heart pound wildly in his chest. Henry. Oh, Henry. 

After a moment, she nods. Then she darts out and Charming hurriedly follows, still holding Snow's hand. Outside, the sun is still bright in the sky and it takes them a moment to adjust to the light after the darkness of the cave. 

“Ow,” Emma complains, and he kisses the top of her head as she hides her face against his shoulder. 

“You still run slow!” Tink calls from ahead. Charming doesn't have the breath to reply, but he makes a note to defend his running skills at some later point. He wouldn't want Snow to get any ideas about future teasing, after all, as much fun as teasing her right back is. 

Both he and Snow are breathless as they stumble out of the jungle (he particularly, since he's carrying Emma) and onto the beach. Hook, Graham and Regina are all still there, he notices. He is about to point out this is simply where their friends are when he spots the other, smaller shape with them.

Henry.

“Henry,” Snow says, already moving. Henry looks up, and even from this distance, Charming's hairs stand on edge. He's not sure why, and doesn't have the time to think about it as Henry launches himself at Snow.

“Mom!” he cries, as Snow wraps her arms around him and lifts him up. Charming walks over too, careful not to crush Emma as he puts his arms around Snow and Henry both. 

“Dad,” Henry whispers. Charming just nods, not finding the words. He's crying, he knows, as Snow is. Their son. They have their son back. 

“Tinkerbell,” Hook says and Charming can hear the fairy make something akin to a hiss. Definitely a history there, he gathers, but doesn't quite care about that right now.

“Henry,” Snow says again, lowering Henry back on his feet and kissing his head as Charming does the same.

He glances up as Regina approaches. She has tears in her eyes too, he notices, looking at Snow and Henry with affection. Emma is biting on her thumb, looking at Henry as if she's trying to puzzle something out. 

Henry looks confused as he notices the little girl. Then his eyes widen. “Emma?”

“Yeah. Slight magical mishap,” Charming says, his voice shaky. “Emma, this is Henry, your... Brother.” 

After all, he technically is, just like he's also her son. 

Emma hides her face again, peeking at Henry through her fingers. “Don't want a brother.”

“Emma,” Snow says softly. “Having another child doesn't mean we love you any less. We will always love you the same no matter how many siblings you'll have.”

Emma doesn't look quite convinced, but she stops scowling. 

Henry stares at her in confusion, his eyes dark. Charming feels that uneasy sensation return again. Something is wrong. Something is wrong with their son, with...

“Pan took Henry's shadow and heart,” Regina says matter-of-factly, but he can hear buried rage in her voice. He knows that rage, after all. He's just used to it being targeted at Snow or himself. It is a strange thing to hear it as rage on their behalf instead.

His own anger is stirring too. Snow makes a strangled cry, hugging Henry close again. Their son has lost his heart and his shadow? No. No, he won't allow that. No.

“He did,” Henry confirms in a thin voice. “I'm sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Regina is the one to say. “Henry. Never apologize for what others do to you.”

“Hearts can be returned,” Graham says softly, glancing at Emma with such longing Charming really feels for him. The huntsman very definitely has his heart and it's been claimed by his daughter. 

“I don't know about shadows, but it's possible they can be reattached too,” Hook says when Regina elbows him firmly, as if prompting him.

“There you go,” Charming manages to say, smiling tearfully at his son. “We'll find your heart and your shadow, and we'll make Emma an adult again.”

“A happy ending?” Henry asks.

“A happy ending,” Charming says, and tries very hard to believe it.

“But it doesn't have to end!” Tink says, floating down to sit on Henry's shoulder and making their son stare. “Henry can stay a boy and Emma can stay a girl, and I can play with them forever.”

“Tink...” Charming starts.

“And you can stay their parents forever,” Tink adds when she notices his gaze. “You always liked parents so much. I can talk Peter into letting you stay, I know I can!”

With that, she darts off in a whirl of gold before anyone can protest. It's not the last they've seen of her, Charming is certain. 

Snow looks at him, as Henry hugs her and Emma lowers her head to his shoulder. Their children won't age here. 

Forever, he thinks and swallows. 

II

_FTL, the past_

II

_David wakes to the melodic sound of chimes, and he sits up in bed before he's even opened his eyes, half expecting a bucket of water to drop on him._

_But no. Not this time, luckily._

_“Tink!” he admonishes, not pleased with the rude awakening even if it was water-less, and she giggles. She's hovering just above his bed, and he quickly checks to see if Mama is still asleep. He hasn't told her about his fairy friend yet, and this would be a bad introduction._

_But Mama is sleeping, so he quietly steps out of bed and outside. Tink follows him, giggling at the secrecy._

_“I can't play,” he tells her. “I need to sleep so I can help Mama work in the morning. We can play tomorrow.”_

_“No,” Tink says sadly. “I leave tomorrow. We couldn't find the boy we were looking for.”_

_“Oh,” he says. He's not sure who the 'we' is, but perhaps it's another fairy._

_“I wanted you to be the boy,” she says. “You run too slow but you're fun.”_

_“I run fast enough!” he protests. “Flying is cheating.”_

_She giggles, then looks at him. “You could come with me. You could be a boy forever and I could keep you.”_

_“I can't leave Mama,” he says gently, and Tink looks insulted at that. “She needs me.”_

_“But you don't need her,” Tink protests. “You don't need parents.”_

_“I do,” he says, thinking of his Mama. He can't imagine his life without her. Children need parents and parents need children. That's family._

_One day he's going to make his own – his family and his children and Mama will get to be a grandmother._

_“You're no fun!” Tink complains, and before he can protest at that, she darts off. He watches her fly into the sky, knowing he's just lost one of the few (though terribly mischievous and quite good at creating trouble) friends he's had._

_Only when he can't see her any more does he walk inside again. He climbs up into Mama's bed, and she puts her arms around him automatically. Moments later she opens her eyes and looks down at him._

_She doesn't ask him why he's sad, just strokes his hair gently._

_“Do you want me to stay a boy forever?” he asks suddenly, and she chuckles softly._

_“You're a fine boy, David. But seeing you grow up into a fine man and finding your true love and having children... That will make me happier than anything else.”_

_“Oh,” he says, and she kisses his forehead lovingly._

_“Trust me, my son,” she says quietly. “When you get your own, you'll understand.”_

II

Neverland, present day

II

By (eventual) agreement, they head back to the Jolly Roger to consider their options and to avoid any more attacks from the Lost Boys while they figure out a plan. 

Emma falls asleep in Charming's arms while they take the small boat back to the ship, and he holds her and Snow holds Henry while the boy haltingly tells them the same story he told Regina. Regina has to look away at the obvious hurt on their faces as Snow and Charming feel pain because their son did. 

That's love too, she knows. The greatest magic of all, creating so much happiness. The greatest curse of all, causing so much pain. 

Greg stares at Henry when they step back on deck, looking torn between disbelief and anger. Regina stares him down, daring him to make one stupid remark or asking for Tamara so she finally has an excuse to rip his heart out.

But he merely swallows and is silent. 

Graham offers to make some food below deck, which the others simply nod tiredly at. They all look emotionally exhausted, something Regina can well understand.

As the others walk below deck, she pauses. 

“I'll be right back,” she tells Hook, who raises an eyebrow but doesn't argue. She can feel his gaze on her while she and heads to the far end of the deck, waiting until she's out of sight (and hearing) before stopping. 

“Rumpelstiltskin!” she calls, and a moment later she feels the magic. 

“Yes, dearie?” he says from behind her. 

“Isn't the fun of appearing suddenly behind someone wearing thin after a few centuries?” she asks irritably as she turns around.

“You would think so, but no,” he says gleefully. 

“We found Henry,” she says, and Rumpelstiltskin's expression turns serious. “Pan has taken his shadow and his heart. Do you know why?”

“I can venture a guess,” he says, looking thoughtful.

“So venture it,” she replies, crossing her arms.

“Magic always has a price, dearie. And Neverland is a land kept magically eternal.”

“By what?”

“Exactly.”

She doesn't repeat the question, knowing that if he's decided not to tell her, she'll have to find out some other way. 

“I know how to return a heart,” she says instead. “That leaves his shadow.”

“It does indeed,” he says softly, but an odd tone to his voice. A moment later, he's gone again, but she knows a sort of deal is struck.

She's going to find Henry's heart. He helped her trust hers again, after all.

II

Night falls over Neverland, and Rumpelstiltskin sits on top of the waterfall, watching the island below him.

Lost Boys are noticing him, but then, the whole point of this is to be extremely visible. 

He doesn't have to wait long. From the dark sky, a shadow floats down to look at him. It hisses, its eyes the only bright thing about it. But this isn't Peter Pan's, oh no. 

This is Henry's. His grandson's. 

He could vanish, he knows. Magically disappear, remove himself from danger and continue living forever. He could probably even find a way back and take the Charmings (extended edition) with him. They would grieve the loss of Henry, and he would grieve the loss of Bae, but life would eventually go on. He could settle down with Belle, the beauty and the beast, and maybe even have another child down the line. Snow and Charming would certainly have more children, and perhaps Emma would with her captured huntsman too. 

He might even look after them all in honor of Henry, and thus Bae. 

He could do all those things.

But he won't. 

So he remains perfectly still as the shadow comes at him, even smiling as it tears into him.

II

Henry looks dead on his feet (and in his eyes, which makes Charming bite back as much anger as fear), Emma is still sleeping and as neither Snow nor Charming are willing to be separated from any part of their family, Hook quietly offers them the captain's bed. It's still not large enough for four, but they make do.

Emma ends up sleeping with her head tucked under Charming's chin, her golden curls spread across his chest. Henry falls asleep on his side, his head against Snow's shoulder. With their children between then, Snow looks at Charming and they link hands. 

“We can't stay here,” Snow says quietly. 

“No,” he agrees. Forever with Snow and Henry and Emma (and the one on the way), that does sound wonderful. But not like this. Not if the price is never letting them grow up and grow into their own lives, with their own family. 

He doesn’t want them to stay children forever. He loves them too much for that. 

He understands his mother now, he thinks, and feels the comforting warmth of Snow's palm against his.


	101. Chapter One Hundred

II

**Chapter One Hundred**

II

As a young girl, Emma often had bad dreams.

They were usually about noises. Sharp noises, scary noises, noises she knows hurt. They were all around her, trying to reach her, and the only thing shielding her were strong arms. 

But they let go. And then there was the scariest noise of all, two simple words: “Find us.”

That was a goodbye. That meant being left. That meant she had lost something.

Lost little Emma, not even sure what she was trying to find. Lost little Emma, the orphan without parents. Lost little Emma, the ugly duckling who wanted to be a swan. 

_Emma._

II

_Emma._

Emma wakes to strong arms holding her, and the steady heartbeat of who she just knows is her daddy. He is sleeping, his face relaxed and his hand in mommy's. Behind her, Emma knows Henry is sleeping too. 

The boy that will make sure they won't want her as well. That's how it works. When another child enters the picture, no one wants Emma Swan. 

Carefully, she pulls away from her daddy without him waking. He looks just as she imagined him so many times, strong and brave and like a prince from a fairytale. Mommy has shorter hair than Emma imagined, but she's still everything an orphan could want.

_Emma._

The sea is singing her name again, Emma thinks curiously. Carefully, she makes her way up on deck. The sky is getting lighter, but she can still see stars. 

“You aren't what I expected,” a voice says and Emma turns around to see an older boy look at her. He is smiling, but it isn't quite friendly. “I'm Peter. Peter Pan. You really are quite the lost little girl, aren't you?”

Emma bites her lip to try and keep it from wobbling. “No. I found mommy and daddy. I'm not lost.”

“Your parents,” the boy says mockingly. “Your loving little parents. You think they want you? They have their boy back, why would they want you? Why would anyone want Emma Swan?”

Emma wants to cry, but doesn't. Instead she sticks her chin up. “You're just a bully.”

He looks amused at that. “Quite brave, aren't you? Brave and yet so broken, what a combination. I always enjoy a challenge. Little Owen won't be one.”

“Owen?” Emma repeats. 

“I always claim the lost boys,” Peter says darkly, and Emma wonders what he means by that. “I claimed him. I'll be seeing you soon, Emma.”

She stands still as he simply walks over to the railing of the ship, then calmly jumps off. She bites her thumb, feeling silent tears roll down her cheeks. 

She wants mommy and daddy and yet she isn't sure they want her. They keep saying it, but they gave her up. How could they want her and give her up? 

“Hey,” a voice says, and she turns around to see Graham kneeling down behind her. He is looking kindly at her, and his smile is friendly but quite sad. “Are you okay?”

She shakes her head. He watches her, and there is something lost in his eyes too. 

“I know this must be very confusing for you,” Graham says quietly. 

“I just wanted mommy and daddy,” she says, and he nods slowly. 

“I know,” he says. He closes his eyes for a moment. “They wanted you so very, very much, Emma. They built you a nursery and filled it with all the toys they could find. They spoke about nothing but you for months. I was there. I know.”

She watches him, wishing she knew when people told the truth or not. She's been getting better at it, but she believed the last family would want her.

They didn't. 

“My parents gave me up,” Graham goes on and she makes a small gasp. “Yeah. I was... Adopted, sort of, but I never forgot. I was a lost boy for a very long time.”

“Who found you?” Emma asks, wondering why she suddenly wishes he got a happy ending. There is something in him that makes her want to be nice to him.

“Your mother first,” he says softly. “She found my heart, in a way. I helped your father find her. You see Emma, they've lost each other many times too. Not because they didn't love each other, but because some people don't want others to be happy.”

“Like bullies,” Emma suggests, and Graham nods.

“Yeah. Like bullies. That's why they lost you too, Emma. Because someone wanted to make them unhappy.”

Emma thinks about that. She wants to believe it, but she's almost afraid to. 

Graham looks down and she catches a glimpse of a tear. Gently, she lifts a hand and puts it on his arm and he looks up. 

“Aren't you happy?” she asks, and he shakes his head.

“I was,” he says, and smiles as if thinking about it. “I found a woman I love very, very much. I was very happy with her.”

“But you lost her?” Emma asks, and he nods. “Oh. Are you looking for her?”

“She has to find herself,” he says quietly. “But I really believe she can. I don't think she's a lost girl anymore. She just has to realize that.”

Emma feels funny at that. It's almost as if something is tugging at her mind, trying to tell her something, but she isn't sure what. 

“Emma!” 

Emma turns around to see mommy come barreling at her, lifting her up and pressing her close. 

“We were so worried when we woke up and you weren't there,” mommy murmurs, kissing her hair. Emma sees daddy walking out on deck in quick strides as well, carrying Henry. He exhales at the sight of her, then quickly walks over to embrace both mommy and her. 

“Emma,” he says. “You scared us.”

They really sound like they were worried when she was gone, Emma thinks and closes her eyes. Maybe, maybe...

Mommy eases her down on her feet again, crouching down and looking her in the face. Something seems to flicker in her eyes as she notices the tears, but she only smiles gently and wipes them away with her thumb. 

“What's the matter Emma?” mommy asks softly. “I know you're confused about everything and I'm sorry. I wish I knew how to explain this all to you.”

“Yeah,” daddy agrees softly. “I know this is confusing, but we are your parents and we will look after you, Emma.”

“A bully was here,” Emma says and daddy makes a small hiss. “He said you didn't want me.”

“What bully?” mommy asks gently.

“He said his name was Peter Pan,” Emma says hesitantly. 

“He lied,” daddy says angrily. “You're our daughter, Emma.”

“And we love you,” mommy says and smiles, but her eyes are teary. “We love you so much we...”

She chokes, and daddy puts a hand on her neck and sits down on the deck next to her with Henry in his arms. 

Henry looks quite serious, but he holds out a hand to Emma. Emma takes it hesitantly. Maybe having a big brother isn't all bad.

“I miss Emma,” he says strangely, and Emma wonders what he means by that. How can he miss her when he didn't know her until now?

Daddy nods, putting a hand on Henry's chest. “Everything is going to be fine, Henry. We're going to find everything we've lost and we're going to go home together and be a family. I promise.”

Mommy nods eagerly at that, kissing Emma's head again, a lingering kiss.

“I love you, honey,” mommy whispers against her skin. “I wish...”

“Let's try not to wish,” a cool voice says, and Emma looks up to see the woman called Regina walk has joined them. Behind her is the pirate, who gives her a slight wink. “The magic in this place clearly runs on imagination as Miss Swan demonstrated.”

Mommy sighs, but nods. “Any ideas how we can make her... Imagine herself grown up again?”

Regina looks at Emma, and Emma stares defiantly back. Whatever they're talking about, she doesn't like growing up. 

“Given that a child born from Snow White and Prince Charming and 'I will always find you' catch-phrasing is bound to be impossibly stubborn, I'm not sure,” Regina says, and Emma wonders how something that sounds mocking can also sound affectionate. Must be a grown-up thing.

“Where's that delightful captive you brought?” Hook asks suddenly, and all the grown-ups turn around to look. They all seem to tense up. 

“Emma?” mommy asks softly. 

“The bully said he claimed Owen,” Emma says quietly. The grown-ups exchange glances. 

“Henry, why don't you take Emma to the cabin and get her some breakfast?” mommy suggests, and Emma knows what that means. That means grown-up talk. Daddy is nodding as well, before leaning forward to kiss Emma's temple.

“Please, Henry,” daddy says softly. 

Henry looks ready to protest, then she can see something in his eyes before he nods far too easily. Her hand still in his, he leads her away and down the stairs to below deck. The moment they're out of view of the grown-ups, he makes exaggerated walking noises. Emma giggles, then does the same until he fades them away and then holds a finger to his lips.

Maybe having a big brother is fun, Emma decides. He even knows how to listen in on conversations. 

“So Pan took Owen,” Graham says. “What does he want with him?”

“Nothing pleasant,” Hook says quietly and Emma shivers while Henry looks pale. She squeezes his hand. She remembers hearing something about the bully taking Henry's heart. That sounds painful.

“I think we need to go after Pan first of all,” daddy is saying as Emma strains to listen. “Emma is safe as she is and we can look after her.”

“We can't leave Emma like that!” Graham protests.

“We're not,” mommy says calmly, but her voice is strange. “We have to prioritize, Graham. We have to get Henry's heart back first.”

“Yes,” daddy says, and he sounds afraid. Emma never imagined daddies could be afraid of anything. 

“I agree,” Regina says. “Miss Swan did this to herself, so she must be the one to reverse it. I don't trust Pan with Henry's heart any more than I would trust a curse to keep you two separated.”

“As I recall, you did once,” mommy says, and she sounds almost amused.

“Rookie mistake,” Regina replies. “The point is, Pan is clearly up to something.”

“'The bully' Emma was talking about was Pan. He upset Emma,” daddy says and he sounds angry again. “He told her we didn't want to be her parents.” 

“Mind games,” Hook says, and he sounds tired. “He always liked mind games. He's going to be playing them with all of us. You better be prepared for that. Every weakness you have, he'll use. Every strength you have he'll use too.”

“Great,” Regina says, sounding as if it's anything but great. “And this is where you chose to spend 300 years, pirate?”

“There isn't exactly a catalog of realms not to age in, my dear,” Hook replies. 

“So we go after Pan first,” daddy breaks in. “Should we leave Emma on the ship? You can stay with her, Snow, we can...”

“No!” Emma says instinctively, then clamps a hand over her mouth as she realizes she's just given them away. 

Everything is silent. Then daddy walks down the first step and looks down at them half affectionately, half angrily.

“Henry,” he says. 

“It's my heart! It's Emma's life! We want to be a part of Operation Wolf too!” Henry protests. 

“Wolf?” daddy says. 

“Because we're getting my heart back like you got Graham's heart back,” Henry says quietly. “He was raised by wolves, and wolves stay together in their pack.”

Emma bites her lip again. 

“I like wolves,” she says quietly. Wolves stay together. She likes that. 

Daddy closes his eyes and looks almost pained. Then he nods very softly. “You're right, Henry. You and Emma are a part of this. We're family. We stay together.”

Henry nods, as if he's accepting a promise, and Emma finds herself almost believing it is one. Almost.

II

Greg wakes up in the jungle.

Last he remembers, he was still at the ship, still tied up. But now he is surrounded by trees and his hands are freed, and the morning sky is bright above him.

He looks around hurriedly, but he can't see any sign of life. Have they decided to let him go? They did come back with Henry, so perhaps they've found a way to return home and have decided his punishment would be to stay here.

He shivers even in the heat, struggling to stand up. Slowly, he begins to make his way through the jungle, wincing every time a branch or brush scrapes him.

Then he sees her.

Tamara.

She's stumbling through the jungle like him, her eyes widening as she sees him. She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.

Rage fills him. She used him. 

“Did you even care about my dad?!” he screams at her, rushing towards her and not caring about the thorns in the way. She mouths at him, but no sound comes out. “You didn't, did you?! You just cared about using him to get me., to use me!”

She doesn't even make a noise as he chokes her, just stares at him with wide, wide eyes. 

And then his hands are just clutching air. He looks up in confusion, and sees the boy leaning against the tree.

“I just wanted to see what you would do,” the boy says darkly. “Just a little hallucination to darken your day.”

“Why?” Greg asks thickly, his head spinning. 

“I wanted to see how deeply you could hate,” the boy replies smoothly. “It's so easy to make people hate. Belief is so much harder, and thus so much more valuable. You're no use to me. Too much hate.”

Greg feels dizzy, then glances down at his leg. A thick thorn is embedded there, oozing black. 

“Now you're truly lost,” the boy says, and when Greg looks up again, he's gone.


	102. Chapter One Hundred and One

II

**Chapter One Hundred and One**

II

It's a rather eclectic group that stands on a beach of Neverland in the morning light, really. 

A former Evil Queen, a huntsman, a pirate, two children (one of which should really be an adult), a princess and a shepherd-turned-prince, Snow considers, and takes in the group. Not exactly the Avengers, but they are bound together by common purpose. Maybe that will be good enough.

They're going to find Pan and get Henry's heart back. And then, then they'll find a way back somehow. She has to believe that. 

In the pale morning light, Henry looks terribly pale. He tries to be brave, she knows, so very much Charming's son and grandson in one. Charming has even given him a short sword, more to cheer Henry up than thinking it will see much use, Snow knows.

She's given Emma a small sling-shot, and the joy on Emma's face nearly killed. Their daughter is so happy with so little, and yet they wanted to give her so much. 

“Ready, your Majesties?” Hook asks, winking at Regina, who just rolls her eyes in return. For Regina, that's practically friendly, though.

“Henry, Emma,” Charming says, kneeling down. They look at him with almost identical expressions, the family resemblance making Snow's heart ache. “You need to stay close to mommy and daddy at all times, okay? If there is fighting, you stay behind us or... Or aunt Regina, okay?”

'Aunt' Regina looks up sharply, startled. Then her eyes soften, and she nods at Charming as if making a silent promise. 

“Or Graham,” Emma says quietly, making Graham look up. “He's nice.”

“He's nice,” Snow agrees softly. She takes Emma's small hand in her own. “Ready, princess?”

“Ready,” Emma says bravely. She glances over at the jungle and bites her lip. “It's dark.”

“Aye,” Hook says. “It wasn't always like this. The magic of Neverland must be starting to fail.”

Regina nods at that, as if she's sensing it too. 

“I know of a cliff we can use as a vantage point, see if we can spot Pan's lair from there,” Hook goes on, and Charming gives a brief nod. And so, with Charming holding Henry's hand and Snow holding Emma's, they head into the jungle. 

II

Neal wakes up again, feeling strangely warm. For a moment he thinks he might actually be dead. Then his vision focuses and he realizes he's in a cage in a cave, of all things. 

An almost familiar cave, he realizes. He's seen it before, but when?

“Are you all right?” a familiar voice calls, and he turns around sharply to see Wendy Darling. Wendy, as he knew her so long ago, and not a day older. 

“Wendy?” he asks, not quite wanting to believe it. He went to Neverland to keep her and her brothers safe, and if she's here... He failed.

“Do I know you?” she asks, looking at him curiously. 

“I'm Bae! Baelfire,” he says, and Wendy's face lights up. A moment later she throws herself in his arms. 

“Bae! We came to Neverland to rescue you, but Pan kept us trapped and told us you were dead.”

“Not dead. I managed to escape Neverland eventually.”

“Oh,” she says, pulling away to look at him hopefully. “There is a way back?”

“Yes,” he says. “Wendy... What happened?”

“Pan found you on the beach and brought you here,” she says, and he vaguely remembers the mermaid. Ariel. She saved him, only to be captured, apparently. “He said you might be useful now that he has the other boy.”

“Henry,” Neal says, feeling a sharp jolt of pain. “Wendy, he's my son. I need to rescue him.”

“No one can be saved from Pan,” Wendy says sadly, looking down at her hands. “It's impossible. My brothers tried and were caught themselves. They have to work for him now.”

Neal shakes his head. “Every villain has a weakness. We just have to find it and exploit it. Trust me, I was raised by one for a time.”

“Who?” Wendy asks curiously.

“My papa,” Neal says, smiling faintly. 

II

Henry and Emma are visibly tired as they climb up on the cliff, but Snow sees how determined they both are not to show any weakness, and it makes her smile despite everything. Only when she makes an exaggerated show of breathing hard and sitting down as if tired do they sit down as well. Graham hovers close to Emma, quiet but protective. 

Hook is scanning the jungle below them.

“No sign of activity in any of his old camps,” he says after a while, lowering his monocular. 

“Is he hiding?” Charming asks.

“He's playing,” Hook replies. “I just don't know what his game is yet.”

Charming sighs, glancing over at Snow. “I don't like playing a game where the rules are set by the other player.”

“Pan doesn't take it lightly when someone breaks his rules,” Hook warns.

“Good,” Regina says, walking over to Henry and taking his hand. “I've never wanted to be taken lightly in my life. Pan has Henry's heart. We have Henry. I can put a modified tracking spell on him.”

Snow puts a protective hand on Henry instinctively, but Regina merely smiles. “Don't worry, Snow. It won't harm him.”

“Henry?” Snow asks. 

“I'll do it,” Henry says, nodding for emphasis. 

Snow nods reluctantly. It's not that she doesn't trust Regina; she does, now. It's just that she has seen magic used for ill far too many times to ever be quite comfortable with it.

Regina's hand glows and Emma peers curiously as something golden shimmers in Henry's hand for a moment. Then it is gone, and Henry blinks. 

“Where is your heart, Henry?” Regina asks quietly. Henry closes his eyes and holds up a hand, pointing north through the thickest jungle. 

“That way.”

“Okay,” Charming says, glancing over at Hook. “Hook and I will scout ahead, just to make sure we don't walk into a Lost Boys ambush.”

“Be careful,” Snow says. He smiles at her, cradling her head in his hands and kissing her forehead before finding her lips. She sighs into it, feeling his lips brush hers with agonizing tenderness. 

“I'll see you soon,” he promises, then ruffles Henry's hair, and after a moment, Emma's. “You too, my brave knights. Look after your mother for me.”

Emma and Henry nod solemnly, as if making a promise. With a wink at her, Charming follows Hook between the trees.

“Don't worry,” Regina tells Henry, and he looks up at her. Then he nods as if accepting that as a promise too. To Regina's visible surprise, he holds out a hand. With a glance at Snow as if asking permission, Regina takes it.

Aunt Regina, Snow thinks. How true it's becoming. 

II

He's dying, Greg knows. The poison is making it hard to breathe, and he almost welcomes the end of the pain. 

Maybe it's time to find his father again the only way he can. By dying too. 

Yet his body seems to have a will of its own, climbing onwards. Towards what, he doesn't know. All he knows is that when he looked where the mysterious boy had vanished, he'd found a map with a marked x.

And so he's climbing, up and up, to whatever x holds. Curiosity killed the cat, they do say, but he's already dying. 

As he manages to edge himself up over the last ledge, he sees a boy leaning casually against a rock. Not the same boy as last time, no. This one tries to look far more dangerous and as a result, feels less dangerous. 

Next to him, thorns are tied up to a reveal a waterfall. 

“Pan sends his regards and regrets that he is otherwise engaged,” the boy says. “I am Felix.”

Greg has no voice to answer. Instead, his gaze falls on the figure by Felix's feet.

Tamara.

He feels the rage again, making his hands curl into fists, but he bites it back.

“The water in this waterfall will cure your poisoning,” Felix says cheerfully. “A gift from Pan for being helpful, even if you are no use to him anymore. But it will tie you to Neverland forever. If you leave, it will kill you. Or you can use the thorns to kill your ex-girlfriend, if you wish. That too, is Pan's gift if you wish it.”

Greg nods slowly, his head suddenly clear. To die or stay in a world of magic forever. That's not a choice at all.

Felix watches him as Greg walks over to the waterfall, filling his hands with water. But he doesn't drink it, no. He walks over to Tamara instead, watching her face for a moment. She looks almost peaceful, but he knows this world goes against everything she believes in.

Good.

She coughs as he drips water on her, her lips parting in surprise as she opens her eyes. He drops the rest of the water then, and though she chokes and coughs, she does swallow some as well.

Good, he thinks again, and sinks down as the poison makes his heart skip a beat, and then stop altogether.

Time to see his father again. 

II

With Hook and Charming in front and every now and then doubling back to assure them the way ahead is free of ambushes, they make slow progress through the jungle. Emma and Snow are walking together with Graham following protectively, and Henry is still holding Regina’s hand and walking by her side.

Regina finds it strangely touching. She's always felt certain affection towards the boy who was named for her father and had heart enough to love everyone, but she has to admit that lately, the affection for him and his whole family has come close to something like love.

“You've taken hearts, haven't you?” he suddenly asks, but his voice is curious more than judgmental. “I read about it in the book. You took Graham's.”

“I did,” Regina admits, glancing at Graham's back. “Hearts can be used to control people.”

“So Pan could control me,” Henry says quietly. “He could use me against my family.”

“He could,” Regina says, the thought having already occurred to her. “But hearts can be returned, Henry, and as you can see, Graham wasn't harmed. You'll be fine, Henry.”

“But you could have harmed him if you wanted to,” Henry says after a moment.

“Yes,” she says, swallowing. She used to dream about taking Snow's heart and squeezing it until it was dust just like Daniel's was. Such a long time ago now, another person ago. “It is possible to take someone's heart and kill them by squeezing it to dust. But Pan won't do that to your heart, Henry. We won't let him.”

“I wasn't thinking about Pan doing it,” Henry says in a strange voice, and Regina is strangely reminded of Snow taking the apple to save her beloved Charming. They're a family that loves and sacrifices for that love. She's seen it. 

She doesn't intend to stand by and watch it again.

It's time for someone else to make a sacrifice, she decides. 

II

His own darkness has always been a constant companion, and so, the tiny darkness of Henry's shadow that he's carrying hardly feels like a weight at all, Rumpelstiltskin finds. But it is there. Everyone has their darkness, and everyone has a shadow. 

He can feel Henry's shadow struggle inside him to get free, but he has more than enough power to hold it until he can return it to the boy. That doesn't bother him. 

Being watched, that's what bothers him. 

“I didn't take you for the stalking type,” he says after a while, and Pan steps out from behind the tree. 

“You never did know me, did you Rumple?” Pan counters, just a hint of maliciousness in his voice.

“Perhaps not,” Rumpelstiltskin acknowledges quietly. In some ways, he thinks he might not know Pan at all. In others, he knows him better than anyone. “But I know you enough.”

“So do I,” Pan replies, edging closer. “I've come to offer you a deal, Dark One.”

“You have nothing I want.”

“On the contrary. I have what you want more than anything. I have your son.”

Rumple freezes. “He's dead.”

“Don't believe anyone dead until you see the body,” Pan replies gleefully. “He was saved. Now you can save him. He's waiting for you, trapped in a cage in the Echo Caves. He's all ready for daddy to come to the rescue. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Be your son's hero? I even threw in his old sweetheart. Maybe they can rekindle something if you want it.”

“And what's the price?” Rumple asks, feeling his mind spin. 

“One you won't have to pay,” Pan says. He opens his palm, revealing a tiny whistle. “Just use this whistle and the shadow will come and take you and your boy home to Storybrooke. I'm sure your darling Belle will be happy to see you. You can start a new family with her. She looks fertile. I've seen how you imagine her.”

“No,” Rumpelstiltskin says quietly, but even he can hear the lack of conviction in his words. He swallows. Oh, how he wants it. He's always wanted it all, his power and his loved ones. 

He's always been unwilling to pay the price for it, and so others have had to. Bae. Belle. The Charmings. 

“Yes,” Pan says gleefully. 

“There is another way to break him free.”

“Tell all your dark little secrets? You don't have the guts. Too much of a coward. You let your own boy go rather than face the truth of what you are underneath that dark, delicious curse – the abandoned child, the unlovable husband, the coward. I know you.”

Rumple closes his eyes, then reaches out for the whistle. It feels warm in his hand, humming with magical energy. 

“You know me,” he agrees, and Pan smiles.


	103. Chapter One Hundred and Two

II

**Chapter One Hundred and Two**

II

The question, when it comes, is not entirely unexpected.

“Why are you doing this?” Prince Charming asks, and gives Hook a look. It's not accusatory, but there is a hint of challenge in it. 

“I was bored,” he says cheekily, but the prince merely continues pushing branches out of the way and walking, clearly waiting for more. “Isn't this what you hero types do, mate? Barge into danger and save the day?”

“Something like that,” the prince replies, sounding slightly amused as they step into a clearing. “So you want to be a hero?”

“I seem to have retired from the villain business,” Hook counters, and then he hears the drawing of a bow string. “Ambush!”

The Lost Boys step out of the jungle, arrows drawn. Arrows laced with dreamshade, Hook knows well enough. He's lost men to that poison.

He lost his brother to that poison. 

“Their arrows are laced with dreamshade poison,” he warns, and David nods. “Don't let them hit you.”

“Wasn't planning on it,” David replies. He is already moving, having drawn his sword and deflected the first arrows. Hook dodges a few in his direction, but he has a sinking feeling in his stomach. There are too many, and they're only two. 

“Run back to your family and warn them, mate!” he calls over to David, who scoffs.

“And leave you to die? I don't think so.”

“Does being a hero require your to be this annoyingly noble?”

“Afraid so, _mate_ ,” David replies cheekily, disarming one Lost Boy while dodging another arrow. Maybe they will make it through this, Hook thinks optimistically. The prince is a far better swordsman than Hook expected, and...

Pan steps out between the trees and smiles, and Hook feels ice in the pit of his stomach. The Lost Boys lower their bows, clearly waiting. 

“A pirate and a prince,” Pan says, and his smile is as insincere as the rest of him. “I'm not sure which of you is keeping the oddest company.”

David straightens, his eyes flashing with a sudden fury. “Give me my son's heart.”

“Your son,” Pan says, tilting his head. “Isn't he Emma's son? Oh wait, she gave him up, didn't she?”

“She was giving him his best chance,” David says angrily, clutching his sword. 

“Oh, like you did?” Pan mocks. “Giving your little girl her best chance. Some chance that turned out to be, huh?”

Hook can see David close his eyes for a moment, clearly pained. 

“Yes,” he finally says, softly and sadly. 

Pan smiles again. “Funny how family history repeats itself. But you – you weren't meant to adopt that kid. I've been looking for him for centuries, the boy with the heart of the truest believer. Belief enough to keep Neverland alive, to keep me young forever.”

“Henry's heart is his own,” David says, holding his sword up. “Give it back.”

“Oh, but that's the problem, see?” Pan says darkly. “All that belief in his heart, it's already claimed. Henry believes in _you_ , in Snow White and Prince Charming, in Emma Swan, in auntie Regina. I need that belief. His heart is useless to me without it.”

“What are you going to do, kill everyone Henry believes in one by one?” David asks, and Hook grips his own sword more firmly. 

“No,” Pan says quietly, but the menace is just as present in his voice. “If he believes in you, then I simply have to force him to believe in Neverland to keep you alive.”

Hook knows what's coming, already moving as he hears the drawing of bow strings yet again. David is moving too, trying to reach Pan as Pan laughs and slips back between the trees and the Lost Boys step forward. Arrows come flying, most of them at David. 

“Run back to your family and warn them!” David calls as he deflects arrows coming at him, and Hook grits his teeth. Okay. Annoyingly noble it is. 

“And leave you to die, mate? I don't think so.”

The ghost of a smile appears on David's lips, as he slashes an arrow out of the air that was clearly aimed at Hook and Hook is fairly certain would have hit. With a low crouch, he manages to reach one of the Lost Boys and knock him out with a fist to the face. Most of them are just boys, he remembers, boys like Bae was. 

And then Felix steps out, aiming an arrow at David's back. 

That one isn't a boy at all, Hook remembers, second only to Pan in having the appearance of youth and the malice of centuries.

“Behind you!” he calls to David, who flips around as the arrow comes at him. He's too late to block it, and can only try to dodge it. At first Hook thinks he actually did it. Then he notices David clutching his side for a moment and knows the arrow nicked him.

Dreamshade, Hook thinks with a sinking heart. Dreamshade and a good man poisoned. Again.

II

He can do this, Rumplestiltskin reminds himself, trying so very hard to hold on to Belle's faith in him. He can do this. He can be brave. Pan might know him – know him all too well, in fact – but he doesn't know Belle.

Belle is brave enough for two, and has as much of his heart as he could give her.   
The Echo Cave is quiet as he steps inside, and his head is already screaming at him to leave. This is no place for a coward. This is the place for those brave enough to face the darkest depths of themselves.

But as he sees the cage in the middle of the cave, surrounded by an abyss, he feels his resolve strengthen and his breath catch.

Bae. It is Bae, trapped inside the cage, but alive. His son. His redemption. There is someone else with him as well, a young girl that Rumple doesn't recognize.

He can see Bae look up in wonder, saying something he can't quite hear. With a flick of magic, he enhances both their voices. If this is to work, Bae has to hear what he has to say.

“Hello, son,” he says, his voice echoing back and forth in the room. 

“Papa,” Bae says in wonder. “What are you doing here?”

“We came to save Henry,” Rumpelstiltskin says, and Bae looks surprised and alarmed. “He's your son, Bae. Did you think I would leave him to Pan's devices?”

“Honestly?” Bae says quietly, and Rumple feels pain at his son's obvious hesitation. It is no more than he deserves, but it still hurts. “I wasn't sure.”

“I know, son,” Rumple replies softly. “But honesty is what we now need. This is the Echo Dave. Only the deepest, darkest secrets will get you out of here. Luckily for us all, I have quite a few.”

He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. He can do this. He'll just envision Belle and do this.

“I killed your mother,” he says harshly. “I held her heart in my hands and squeezed it to dust.”

Nothing happens. He opens his eyes to see Bae look at him with an expression he can't quite read.

“That's not a secret,” Bae says, his voice far too flat. “Hook told me that during my time in Neverland. I know.”

Hook, Rumple thinks with fury, then fights it back. 

“There isn't a day that goes by that I don't regret letting you go,” he says after a moment. “But my secret is... I didn't need the curse to find you again. I could have found another way. I needed the curse to find you and keep my power. I still can't let it go. Not even for you. I'm too afraid of who I will be without it.”

Bae pales, and the cave shakes as a path across it begins to form. 

Rumple sighs, closing his eyes for the next one. 

“I know of Neverland,” he goes on, and he hears the young woman gasp. “I was just a boy, a boy with a magical bean looking for a new start for my family. My father was the town drunk, the shame of the whole village, but I still loved him. My brother begged me not to tell dad about the bean, but I did. Neverland was going to be our fresh start, I thought.”

He swallows, trying to steady his voice. Neverland. Oh, how he hates Neverland.

“So my brother took the bean and told me our dad couldn't come, but that I could. I was too afraid. I let my brother go alone. He never forgave me for that, and he never grew up. Peter Pan is my older brother.”

The cave shakes again, and he opens his eyes to see both Bae and Wendy look at him with something akin to sympathy.

“What happened to your father?” Bae asks quietly.

“Dead in a ditch after he left me with a couple of spinsters,” Rumple says as emotionless as he manages. The bridge that spans the abyss is almost complete, he notes. Belle would be proud of him. 

One more then.

“Belle loves me,” he says, feeling his heart quicken at the thought of it. “I love her. But the truth is... I don't think her love will be enough. I believe she will see me as everyone else does one day, see me as the monster I am. Her love won't be enough against all the terrible things I have done and all the things I will do. I love her, but I am certain I will lose her one day. I lose everyone.”

He shudders as the cave does, and opens his eyes to see that the bridge across is now completed. Quickly, he steps across and kneels down by the cage.

It's locked.

“I only met her briefly, but I think Belle will disagree with you,” Bae says, and he sounds almost touched. “Got any more deep, dark secrets? I don't think the cage is opening without one more.”

One more secret, Rumple thinks numbly. He had hoped he had enough secrets to leave this last one out. 

“Actually, I have one,” Bae says quietly. “I'm terrified of becoming you. I left Emma. I could have stayed with her, I could have told Pinocchio off, I could have tried to help her fulfill her fate rather than leave her to it, but I didn't. I let her go. I was afraid. She was the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, the savior, and I was … I was the reason the curse was cast. I let her go, and thus unknowingly let my son go too. And she paid the price for me letting her go, just like I paid the price for you letting me go. I'm terrified of truly becoming... Becoming your son. I'm not your redemption, papa. I have to find my own first.”

The cage springs open, and Rumple pulls Bae into a rough hug, clinging to him.

“You are my redemption,” he whispers desperately. “You're wrong. You're better than me, and I will make sure you stay that way. My happy ending... Is yours.”

Bae sighs, and digs his head into his shoulder. “Papa.”

Yes, Rumple thinks. He is a father. Fathers put their children first, like his didn't. History doesn't have to repeat itself. It doesn't.

Doesn't mean it won't, of course.

II

David staggers slightly as he feels the arrow tear at his flesh. It's barely a nick, but he can feel it, and he remembers Hook's warning about the poison.

“Mate?” Hook asks, as the Lost Boys vanish around them. That means they got what they wanted, then. “I know you were hit. Let me see.”

Reluctantly, David sheds his jacket and lifts his shirt. The small gash is already turning black at the edges, and Hook winces at the sight.

“Dreamshade. You've been poisoned,” Hook says. His voice is strangely sympathetic. “It will be days, maybe weeks at most. I'm sorry.”

“That's it?” David asks, feeling strangely numb. His family. He can't even imagine the pain of having to leave them, or knowing what his death will do to them.

“There is a cure,” Hook says slowly. “Water from Dead Man's Peak will cure the poisoning.”

“But?” David says. He can feel the 'but' hanging in the air like a sword waiting to strike down at him, after all.

“It will tie you to Neverland forever,” Hook says quietly. “My brother got poisoned, and used the water to cure it. Moments after we left Neverland, the poison overcame him again.”

David nods slowly, very slowly, and closes his eyes in pain as he sinks down on his knees. That's what Pan wanted, then. To make him drink the cure and force him to stay in Neverland, thus forcing his family to stay with him. 

Pan would get what he wanted. Henry would have to believe in Neverland to keep his dad alive.

No.

“Look, mate...”

“No,” David says. He keeps his eyes closed, feeling the pain of what he has to give up so strongly it makes him dizzy. Snow. Emma. Henry. His unborn child. His family. 

“Mate...”

“No. We'll find the cure, but we won't tell my family about my poisoning. Henry and Emma deserve the chance to grow up. I'm not taking that from them, and I'm not taking their mother from them. I'll stay here alone.”

“ _Mate_.”

“It's not your choice to make!” David says angrily. His head is throbbing. 

“I don't think your family is about to let you be a self-sacrificing ass,” Hook counters, and David feels an urge to punch him, or punch anything, really. “Especially since they're here and overheard your whole noble speech, as I tried to warn you, _mate_.”

David opens his eyes to see that Hook is right; the rest of the group is standing just at the entrance of the clearing, staring at him. They must have heard the sounds of battle, he realizes, and arrived just in time for this.

Snow looks at him with equal parts pain and anger, and he can only meet her gaze and feel it cut right into him.


	104. Chapter One Hundred and Three

II

**Chapter One Hundred and Three**

II

Snow can hear the hushed voices of Hook and Regina as they head off, having decided between themselves that they would be the ones to get the water from Dead Man's Peak. They'll bring back enough in case anyone else gets poisoned too, and right now, Snow almost feels as if she has been. 

Graham is watching Emma and Henry, and she can see their children's worry and fear in their eyes. She'll have to try to find the strength to soothe it later, but right now her own fear threatens to choke her.

“Snow,” Charming says, his voice low and apologetic. “Snow, I'm sorry, I...”

“No,” she cuts in, continuing her bandaging of his small wound. He's looking up at her with a gaze she can't quite meet. “Not now, Charming.”

He closes his eyes, his expression pained. In silence, she finishes the bandage and pulls his shirt back down. 

“When are you going to talk to me? When we're storming Pan's castle?” he asks quietly, and she just shakes her head.

“Just... Not now, Charming.”

He nods very slowly, then straightens up as Snow stands up. Moments later, Emma comes barreling at him, clinging to him as he lifts her into his arms. Henry follows, sitting down next to Charming and then leaning into him.

“Daddy,” Emma says, her voice pleading. If she's fully understood what happened, Snow isn't sure, but Emma has clearly understood enough to be worried.

“I'm here, honey,” Charming says quietly, putting an arm around Henry. “I'm going to be fine.”

“But you can't leave Neverland,” Henry says. He's clearly understood what is going on, and his eyes are filled with tears.

Charming closes his eyes for a moment, and the pain that flashes across his face makes Snow stagger. She feels more than sees Graham's arm support and steady her. 

Then Charming opens his eyes and smiles at his two children. 

“What matters is that you can,” he says, and smiles sadly. “You'll grow up and become what you want to be, and I'll be prouder of you than you can imagine.”

“Don't want to grow up,” Emma mutters, and Charming presses a kiss against her temple. 

“Growing up is important,” he says, smiling at Henry too. “It's how you start making your own life. I would gladly give my life to make sure you two have one. So if daddy has to stay in Neverland, then you'll have to be brave and go home with mommy.”

“No!” Emma cries out, burying her head in the crook of his neck.

“I don't want to,” Henry says stubbornly. “There has to be another way.”

Snow can't bear it anymore, feeling her heart being ripped to shreds, so she turns around and ignores Charming calling her name. Hurriedly, she steps away from the clearing and takes a few steps in-between the trees. There, she blindly leans against a tree and tries to compose herself.

She knows without looking up that Graham has followed her. 

“I don't think I can do this,” she whispers. She remembers the last time she and Charming thought they were facing a separation, when they thought she would go with Emma into the wardrobe. That time it was 28 years. This is forever. “I can't do this without Charming, I can't...”

“You survived in the forest for years after growing up a princess,” Graham says quietly. “You can do this. It will break your heart, but you can do this. The strength I see and love in your daughter isn't just from David, you know. It is also from you.”

She chokes back a sob, and thinks of Emma and Henry, and then the tiny life growing inside her. For them. She'll have to do this for them, but... Oh, _Charming_.

II

Bae has listened to what happened to Henry with increasing worry, so Rumple leaves out the change in Emma for now. His son seems overwhelmed with everything else, his jaw becoming increasingly clenched. A few feet away, the girl named Wendy watches them both curiously.

“So Henry's shadow is inside you?” he asks.

“Yes. I am used to carrying darkness, son. Don't worry about it. I will keep it trapped until I can give it back to my grandson.”

Bae nods slowly. “So we need to find his heart.”

“We need a weapon against Pan first,” Rumple says quietly. “If we want Henry's heart back, we'll have to go through Pan.”

“You have a weapon in mind,” Bae says. A statement of fact, not a question.

“Yes,” Rumple says. He smiles. “One I know will stun even the Dark One.”

Bae nods, then slowly puts a hand on Rumple's arm. “Thank you for doing this, papa.”

Rumple nods, feeling the urge to tell his son that for him, he would do anything. But he can't say that. It's not quite true. Not yet, anyway. 

Perhaps one day it will be, if he can be brave enough. 

II

Tink watches the water with dry eyes, but only because she has long since run out of tears. Her back still hurts, and she wishes more than anything that she could just fly away.

But she can't. Not anymore.

“Hey,” a voice calls from the water, and Tink glances up to see a mermaid looking at her. A red-haired one. “Are you sad?”

“Yes,” Tink says. She's not used to being sad. She's always wanted to be happy and have fun since everything else seemed like a waste of time.

“Oh,” the mermaid says quietly. “I'm Ariel.”

“Tink,” she says. 

Ariel smiles at her, tilting her head. Not like one of the mean mermaids then, the ones Peter liked to keep mean because he said it would help them keep Neverland fun by keeping others out. 

“I've been looking for Henry, Tamara and Emma for someone,” Ariel says after a moment. “I've been trying to sing to them but humans don't listen to the sea.”

“Oh,” Tink says, lifting her head from her knees. “Henry and Emma are David's kids. I used to play with David when he was a boy. I thought I could play with Emma and Henry too.”

“You know Henry and Emma?” Ariel says happily. “The man will be so glad to know that. But why can't you play with them?”

“I asked Peter to be nice to David,” Tink says, shuddering slightly at the memory. “I like David. But Peter said David and his Snow were a problem. I got angry. He got mean. He said I had stop believing in him so he took my wings.”

Ariel gasps. “You were a fairy?”

“Yes,” Tink says.

“I'm sorry,” Ariel says, and she sounds sincere. “Do you want to be a fairy?”

“Yes,” Tink says after a moment.

Ariel nods. “I wish I wasn’t a mermaid sometimes and that I had legs, but if you want to be a fairy, you should be a fairy.”

“I can't be a fairy unless someone believes in me,” Tink says dully.

Ariel seems to think about this. “Can't you believe in yourself?”

Tink thinks about that. She does have some pixie dust left, and if she believes in something, maybe she can make it work. “I don't know.”

“Well, you should,” Ariel says. “But until then, maybe Henry, Emma and David can believe in you?”

Tink straightens up and thinks about the fun boy she used to play with, and his boy and girl that will probably be lots of fun to play with too. It isn't right that Peter should be mean to them just because he can. That's not a prank. That's not fun, and she believes in fun.

“I'm going to help them,” Tink says, and Ariel smiles at that. 

“I'll help you,” Ariel says. “I'll help you become a fairy again too. Everyone should be allowed to be who they want to be.”

“Maybe I can help you get legs,” Tink says, warming to the idea. “That might be fun.”

Ariel looks wistful at that, then smiles. “We can be friends.”

“I thought Peter was my friend,” Tink says darkly. 

“No,” Ariel says, shaking her head. “Friends shouldn't do that.”

“What should friends do?” Tink asks earnestly. She's thought Peter was her friend for so long she isn't sure what friendship is if she can't model it on what she and Peter shared.

“I don't know,” Ariel admits. “I never had any. Not really. Maybe we can find out together?”

II

“How do you know of this healing water?” Regina asks as they walk, looking quite unimpressed at his attempts at being gallant and moving the branches out of her path. 

“My brother was poisoned,” he says shortly, and Regina raises an eyebrow. “We used the water to cure him, but it stopped working outside Neverland. He died.”

She looks at him for a moment more, than her face softens. “I'm sorry.”

“Thank you,” he says softly, and for a moment the silence between them seems almost loaded.

“I'll take some water with me to study,” Regina says after a moment, her face becoming hard. “Perhaps I can study it and work out a cure that will work outside of Neverland.”

He watches her, remembering what he knows of her as the Evil Queen, the one so determined to make Snow White suffer. 

“I see you love as passionately as you hate,” he observes, and Regina gives him a withering look. “Merely an observation, Your Majesty. So fiercely devoted to making Snow White miserable, and now equally devoted to preserving her happiness. Makes a man quite curious.”

“About what?” she asks testily.

“What it might be liked to be loved by you,” he says frankly, and Regina gives no answer to that.

II 

Henry and Emma seem to have calmed down as Snow walks back to the camp. They're still nestled against Charming, and he's whispering to them. She imagines it's a combination of reassurances and terms of affection, as always so determined to look after others before himself. 

She watches as Graham encourages Henry and Emma to come coconut gathering with him, and the two of them only reluctantly agreeing at Charming's urging. He gives them both a kiss to the top of the head before they walk off, watching them walk away before lifting his gaze to her.

Snow swallows.

“You were going to keep it from me,” she says quietly, but she can hear the anger in her own voice. Charming obviously can as well, and he stands up to face her.

“Yes,” he says, and she wants to yell at him so very, very badly. “I knew you would want to stay with me and that it would break your heart to know you couldn't.”

“I don't want to leave you,” she says fiercely.

“But you have to,” he says, and steps closer. “If our children were all grown up it might be different, but... And even then you'd face the pain of being separated from them.”

She closes her eyes, and feels Charming's arms slip around her and pull her closer.

“How could I not want to keep that pain from you as long as I could?” he whispers intently, and she shakes her head.

“That doesn't make it okay,” she whispers back, balling her hands and pushing them against his chest. “I have a right to know.”

“I know,” he says, his lips brushing her forehead. “I'm sorry. I was scared. The thought of leaving you...”

He chokes, and she kisses him fiercely, letting her anger and fear fuel it as he parts his lips and she feels the heat of his mouth. His lips are soft and yielding against hers, and she can feel his hands at her waist, holding her gently. 

She knows she is crying and doesn't care, and she can taste the salt of his tears on his lips also. It doesn't lessen the anger of knowing he would dare even consider keeping her in the dark, but it does remind her that he is hurting too, maybe even more than she. After all, she will have their children with her. He won't.

“Charming,” she mouths into the kiss, and he kisses her desperately at the sound of that. She puts her arms around his neck to pull him even closer, pressing herself against him.

They're both breathing hard as they finally pull apart, pressing their foreheads together as his hands move to her stomach. 

“I'm sorry, Snow,” he says brokenly. “I love you.”

“Love means staying together,” she whispers, and he smiles sadly and then kisses her so tenderly it aches.

“Love also means sacrifice,” he says, and she wishes more than anything in this world that he was wrong.

II

Emma's head has been hurting ever since she understood daddy had been hurt, and now it's hurting even more as she picks at a coconut. Henry has made a small pile of coconuts by his feet, but she can tell his heart isn't in it. It's Graham who is making a real effort at getting coconuts that they can drink from, all while watching them with a strange expression.

“I don't want to grow up if it means leaving daddy,” Emma says after a moment, and Henry nods. 

“We could tell mommy and daddy we could stay here forever,” Henry suggests, and Emma thinks about that. She would have mommy and daddy and a big brother forever.

She nods, but a part of her brain seems to scream at her.

“Mommy and daddy won't like it,” Henry goes on. He sounds oddly determined, a bit like daddy did. “So we might have to make them understand.”

“Okay,” Emma says, even if she isn't sure what that means. 

“Operation Family,” Henry says, almost as if to himself. “Family stays together.”

“Family,” Emma repeats. She always wanted a family, wanted not to be lost, wanted not to be an orphan. She used to imagine it at night when she awoke from nightmares with strange noises and a terrible sense of loss. Mommy. Daddy. A family that loved her more than anything.

Mommy and daddy love each other, but they're still going to be apart because they want her to grow up, a part of her mind that feels really old whispers to her.

“Family,” Henry agrees, and takes Emma's hand in his. “You know you're part of the family, don't you Emma?”

Her head hurts, but Emma nods. She knows. 

“I used to imagine,” she says in a thin voice. 

“You don't have to imagine anymore,” Henry says, and Emma knows he's right. She doesn't have to imagine anything.

She knows. Oh, she knows.

“Emma?” Henry asks hesitantly, as she closes her eyes and lets go of what she imagined for so long.


	105. Chapter One Hundred and Four

II

**Chapter One Hundred and Four**

II

Life has never been fair, Graham knows. If it had been fair, Emma would have been raised by her very loving parents and married a very loving prince and he would certainly have no right to her. 

But life is unfair, making happy endings a goal rather than a certainty, and now the family he loves as his own faces breaking apart. 

Through the trees, he can distantly see Snow and Charming cling to each other, embracing and kissing and sometimes whispering to each other. It reminds him of the time before the curse came, when they knew it was coming and thought it would mean Snow going with Emma into another world. 

He didn't really know the loss they were facing then. He has a better idea now, now that the thought of never seeing Emma again is like losing his heart all over again. 

“Emma?” he hears Henry say. The two have been whispering together and he's more than a little sure they've probably been conspiring together too, because he knows Henry and he has a good idea of what young Emma is like from how well he knows her as an adult.

With a sigh, he turns around to look at them, only to go completely still as he sees the magic swirling around Emma. She has her eyes closed in deep concentration, still holding Henry's hand as she ages before his very eyes.

“Emma?!” Henry gasps. Graham can only watch as Emma – his Emma - blinks, then stares down at Henry's hand in hers.

“Hey, kid,” she says, and Henry launches himself at her. Emma closes her eyes and puts an arm around him, the look on her face so loving it seems to make her brighter than the sun to look at. “I'm here.”

They sit in silence for a moment, Graham unable to tear his eyes off them. They make such a lovely sight, the boy and his (one) mother. (Snow, of course, remains Henry's mommy and always will be.) It makes him ache for what Emma had to give up, the chance to raise her child.

Like mother like daughter, he thinks, and hurts for them all. 

Finally Emma pulls away slightly, leaning forward to kiss Henry's forehead. He closes his eyes at it, then smiles up at her.

“Do you remember what happened?” Henry asks, untangling himself from her embrace to stand up. 

“Yes,” Emma says, and lifts her gaze to Graham. “I remember everything. Why don't you go tell David and Mary Margaret the news?”

“Okay!” Henry says happily, bolting in the direction of Snow and Charming. 

Graham swallows as Emma stands up, never taking her eyes off him as she approaches. She pauses just a foot away from him, her face still as bright as when she looked at Henry. He doesn't dare consider what that might mean, but he can bask in it nevertheless.

Then she quickly steps forward and kisses him fiercely, almost making him step backwards from the force of it. He sighs at the familiar sensation of her lips on his, linking his arms around her to press her even closer.

“Graham,” she whispers against his lips, and oh. Oh. He doesn’t have words to describe how it feels to have her back. 

“I love you,” he says instead. She'll remember what he told her when she was a child, but he still wants to say it to her properly. 

She kisses him at that, softly this time, and he sighs into it. Then she pulls away, letting her thumb rest on his lower lip for just a moment before she turns around and follows Henry. 

II

Life does seem to have a certain morbid sense of humor at times, Hook has come to believe after centuries. But it also seems to have a morbid sense of irony, he reflects, as he follows Regina up the last ledge to Dead Man's Peak and notices they are not alone.

“I know the place is called Dead Man's Peak, but I wasn't expecting it to be literal,” Regina says. Before them, clearly dead, lies a man. A somewhat familiar one. “Greg Mendell.”

“Well, if it was literal it would be Greg Mendell's Dead Peak,” Hook counters, just for the pleasure of seeing Regina give him a look. He lifts his gaze further to see someone huddled against the rocks. “And that must be Tamara.”

Regina outright hisses, moving before he can say anything further. He watches as she uses magic to slam Tamara against the rock and then reach into her chest and pull out her heart. 

He knows that sight and he closes his eyes for a moment. Milah. Milah's heart. 

“You,” Regina says harshly. 

Tamara gasps, but soundlessly. Regina blinks, then reaches into her pocket and crushes something in her hand. A moment later Tamara screams, and this time, there is definitely sound. 

“Shut up,” Regina says and squeezes the heart lightly. Tamara's eyes bulge, but she does close her mouth. “The only reason I haven't squeezed your heart into dust yet is that I may have use of you.”

“Please,” Tamara says. “I didn't know I was working for Peter Pan, I swear! I thought I was working to stop magic. Magic is evil.”

Regina shakes her head. “I know evil far better than you. Magic is what you do with it. If you can only see it as evil, then your problem is you, not magic.”

Tamara looks ready to argue that, but Regina squeezes the heart again.

“You would have killed Snow and Charming,” Regina says quietly, every word like a judgment. 

“She killed Bae,” Hook adds, and Regina glances over at him curiously. Then slowly, she nods, as if she understands. 

“You gave Henry to Pan,” Regina goes on. 

“You were the Evil Queen!” Tamara protests. “I know about you. I know what you've done. You can't...”

“Can't judge you?” Regina says merrily. “Yes, I've done worse than you. I earned my name. That's exactly why I can judge you. Hook, get all the water we need. I'm going to be busy for a little while.”

Hook gives a light, mocking bow at the clear order, then follows it. He keeps an eye on Regina whispering to Tamara's heart while he works, careful not to touch the thorns, filling all the canteens they've brought with water. 

As he finishes, he sees Tamara begin climbing downwards while Regina walks up to him. He raises an eyebrow.

“I have her heart,” Regina says to the unasked question. “She's under my control. She will help us now, and if she helps us enough I may let her live.”

“She's not coming back with us?”

“No.” Regina shakes her head. “I won't let her near Henry, or Snow and Charming. They don't need to know about this.”

“Why not?” he asks curiously.

“They would feel guilty about using her,” Regina says simply. “I don't.”

II

Emma walks into the clearing and sees Henry talking excitedly to David and Mary Margaret, who look up a moment later. They look stunned at first, staring at her. She sees the brief flash of loss across their faces, but she doesn't fault them for that. Not when she felt the same flash of loss when she regained her adult memories and knew she wouldn't get to be raised by her mommy and daddy after all. 

Then they hurry towards her and she finds herself being hugged fiercely. She can feel David's hand at the back of her neck, supporting her gently as both of her parents cling to her and she clings right back.

“Emma,” Mary Margaret says, her voice choked. “Oh, honey.”

“Yeah,” she manages to say. “Hi.”

David laughs for a moment, then draws a shuddering breath. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” she manages to answer. This is good to have back, she has to admit. For all she has lost, she has to remember all the things she has gained also. “Mom. Dad. I...”

The words stall in her throat, but she thinks about the David and Mary Margaret Nolan she knew as Henry's parents, the mom and dad she slowly got to know, the mommy and daddy she got a glimpse of while a child and she forces the words past the dryness in her throat.

“ I love you guys,” she says thickly. 

She can feel both David and Mary Margaret go completely still for a moment, even holding their breaths. Then they're kissing her forehead, murmuring how much they love her too, and Emma closes her eyes and lets it all sink into her skin, into her very bones. 

They will never be her mommy and daddy, the loving parents who raised her. They've lost that. But they will be her mom and dad, her loving parents now. They'll always be Henry's mommy and daddy, the loving parents of the most precious thing in the world to her. 

They're crying as they pull back, she notices, and she can also see Graham ruffling Henry's hair affectionately a few steps away. She swallows, then composes herself. 

“We're not leaving you on Neverland,” she tells David firmly. 

“Emma...” he says, but she holds up a hand.

“We'll find a way to go home together, as a family. That's the only way,” she says, and Mary Margaret looks at her with a strange pride. “Okay?”

“I don't mind staying here,” Henry pipes up with, and they all turn to look at him. He looks fiercely determined, and Emma remembers what he told her just before she became herself again. 

“Henry,” Mary Margaret says softly. 

“I don't want you to leave Neverland because of me,” Henry replies and Mary Margaret walks over to kneel by him. 

“Henry,” she says lovingly, cupping his face in her hands. “We love you more than anything.”

“You're our son,” David says quietly, squeezing Emma's shoulder lightly as if to reassure her too. “Sometimes, love means sacrifice, Henry.”

Henry shakes his head stubbornly. “I don't want you to.”

“I know,” David says. “Your mother once took a sleeping curse to let me live. I didn't want her to, just as she has never wanted me to sacrifice my life for hers, yet I would.”

“So why can't I be the one to sacrifice something?” Henry says, sounding frustrated. “I love you all.”

“How about none of us sacrifice anything,” Emma cuts in. She gives them all a look, Graham, Henry, Mary Margaret and David. Her family. “We kick Pan's ass, we get Henry's heart back, we find a way to cure the poisoning and we go back to Storybrooke and live happily and boringly ever after.”

David smiles at her, and then she finds herself being hugged again. She remembers how easily he hugged and held her when she was magically a child, and knows he's probably been longing to do that for ages. So she leans into it and even hugs him slightly back.

“I missed you,” he says, and pulls away to smile at her. “I like your plan, Emma.”

“Yes,” Mary Margaret says, holding out a hand that Emma takes while still keeping Henry close. “I like your plan too.”

II

Wendy has been watching them curiously since the Echo Caves, so Neal walks over to her while his papa strides onto the beach.

“That's your father?” Wendy asks, and Neal nods. 

“I thought of myself as an orphan, as a lost boy, for so many centuries,” he says quietly, and Wendy touches his arm, a light, comforting touch. “It was better than thinking that my papa loved me, but didn't love me enough.”

“And now?” she asks. 

“Now...” he trails off. “I don't know. I have a son I'll never really be a father to because I was a coward, because I was too afraid to go back and find someone I let down. So if I don't forgive him, I'll never forgive myself.”

She smiles gently at him. “Why can't you be a father to your son?”

“Emma gave him up for adoption,” Neal says quietly. “I wasn't there, and she was in jail, so she gave our boy the best chance she could. She gave him up. And my papa found out and made sure her parents were the ones who adopted Henry.”

Wendy looks confused at that. “Emma's parents adopted him? As his grandparents?”

No,” Neal says, putting his hands in his pockets as she watches Rumplestiltskin's hand glow with magic. “They didn't know. It's a long story. They adopted him and raised him as their son. That's who he is. He's Snow White and Prince Charming's son. I'll never be his dad. He has one already.”

“But you can still be something to him,” Wendy says, and he remembers the optimism and kindness in her that he had a bit of a crush on as a boy living with her family. 

“Yeah,” he says, wanting it more than anything. He watches his papa drive a lance of magic into the water, then pull something up with it. A squid. 

It's not the only thing coming up from the water, though. A familiar face peeks up above the waterline, waving at him. The mermaid who saved him.

“Hi!” she says merrily. “I was looking for you. Did you find Emma, Henry and Tamara? I tried to sing to them, but my friend Tink ended up finding them instead.”

“Ariel,” Neal says, feeling slightly dumbstruck. 

“You know this mermaid?” his father asks, and Neal nods.

“She's the mermaid who saved my life.”

“A friendly mermaid,” Rumplestiltskin says, glancing over at him. “Son, I think we have a way home. If your friend is willing to help us.”

Ariel smiles and nods, and for the first time, Neal allows himself to feel a spark of hope. 

II

And above the trees, Pan's shadow listens and then floats away, looking for its master. The Dark One and his son are coming, and so will the others soon too. Henry's family. They will all come.

It's time to ready the trap.


	106. Chapter One Hundred and Five

II

**Chapter One Hundred and Five**

II

Returning to the others with Hook, Regina isn't sure if she should really be surprised or not to see Emma back to her adult self, but it does make her smile almost proudly for a moment.

Emma Swan. She might not be completely hopeless at magic after all. Maybe. After Regina has knocked more sense into her, at least. 

The fact that Miss Swan is holding hands with both her parents, while Henry clings to Charming, that should probably be an endearing sight, but all it does is remind Regina what is at stake.

Beside her, she can feel Hook look at her, and she wonders just what he's seeing that makes him smile softly. Not that it matters now. It might come to matter later, though. 

“Welcome back, Miss Swan,” she says, striding up to the group and nodding at Graham, who is standing halfway into the shadows, looking every inch a guard. 

“Thanks,” Emma says, and sounds like she actually means it. “Did you get the water?”

“Yes,” Hook says, holding up several canteens and bottles that have been filled. “But mate, if you can endure the pain of the poison, I suggest you don't drink this until you have to.”

“I can,” Charming says, a statement of fact rather than bravado. Emma and Snow both look at him, and he smiles reassuringly at them. He was always so willing to suffer pain or even death for Snow's sake, Regina remembers. 

As Daniel was for her. 

“Right,” Regina says, forcing away the images of past ghosts and loss. So much regret there, almost choking her. “I assume you've spent the time coming up with some sort of plan.”

They all nod, even young Henry, looking pale and drawn. Regina wonders at what plans he's been making for himself. He was raised by Charming, after all, and considers himself his son. He might have gotten ideas about suffering for his family. 

“Good,” Regina goes on. “Tell me what the plan is so I can tell you where it's wrong.”

Snow bites back a faint smile, Charming rolls his eyes and Emma gives her a pointed stare, before they explain what they've come up with.

It's not half bad, Regina has to admit. Just not out loud.

II

The plan.

It's not a perfectly constructed plan, but it is a plan, slightly adapted with suggestions from Regina and Hook. Before dawn, David, Graham, Snow and Emma are going frontal assault on Skull Rock with various diversions and using the dim light to their advantage, drawing out Pan and trapping Lost Boys, while Regina is going to teleport into Pan's chamber and get Henry's heart. 

Hook is going to get the Jolly Roger, sail it close to Skull Rock, as it will be their getaway, while Henry comes with him. 

And then there's the slight surprise they have planned, just in case their first plan fails.

It sounds simple enough.

It won't be, Graham knows.

Henry protests angrily at being 'babysat by a pirate', wanting to fight with them all, but finally relents after Snow talks quietly to him. They hug afterwards, Henry burrowing his head into Snow's shoulder, before Charming hugs them both. 

Graham watches Emma as she kneels down to hug Henry too, his heart aching for her. It's her son yet not just her son, and he wonders if she might one day want another child, one that she can raise.

With him, he thinks, and dares to imagine it. 

After Henry and Hook depart, there is nothing to do but prepare and wait. No one can quite sleep. Regina is muttering spells under her breath, Charming is holding Snow while she tightens her bow, kissing the back of her neck and murmuring words of love into her skin. Graham finds himself longing to do the same to Emma, but settles for hovering close as she leans against a tree and keeps her eyes closed.

“I'm imagining,” she says quietly, to his unasked question. “Regina said this world's magic runs on imagination.”

He nods softly. 

She opens her eyes for a moment, glancing at him. “Does it bother you?”

“What?”

“My magic,” she says, biting her lip. He suspects that on some level, her magic still bothers her. 

“No,” he says simply. “Magic is like a sword. What matters is in whose hands it is.”

With that, he lifts her hand and presses a kiss against it, very aware that her parents are close by and that Charming does indeed have a sword. 

Emma closes her eyes, then nods slightly. Perhaps one day she might actually come to accept just how extraordinary she is, being Emma Swan. 

He can imagine, after all.

II

Charming doesn't comment on Graham and Emma nearby, but Snow can feel the tension in his arms. She doesn't blame him. He is a father after all, and he is Charming, protective, stubborn Charming. She can't blame him. 

Not to mention she's equally protective herself.

“She was the most beautiful baby,” Charming says after a few moments. He sounds almost sad, and she tilts her head to look at him. “I wish...”

He trails off. There is no wish he could make that could fix this, she knows. They can't wish for what they lost with Emma, because then Emma will lose what she has now. They can't wish away Henry, who they love just as much as Emma. 

Having Emma as a young girl with them only highlighted that. They end up losing something either way. 

She's so tired of losing. 

“I know,” she says, kissing his neck, then his jaw. “I'm not losing you.”

“Snow...”

“No,” she says firmly. She's had time to think about it now, Charming's poisoning, and she's made a decision. “This island runs on belief, Regina said. I believe. We're going to go home, all of us. Together.”

He smiles faintly, drawing his thumb across her lips. “Snow.”

“I believe,” she repeats. “I'll give you half my heart if that's it takes. I'm not losing you.”

“I almost believe that,” he says softly, and she remembers telling him that once.

“Believe it,” she says fiercely, kissing him with equal fervor. He smiles into the kiss, parting his lips and swallowing her soft moans and sighs. His hand slips down to her stomach, caressing softly.

She's not losing him, and she's not letting another child lose him as a father. She's not letting Emma and Henry live with only the memories of him. No.

She refuses to even imagine it. 

II

Pan has always been good at imagination. 

He imagined Neverland, after all, changing it as he did. He imagined his own power, his eternal youth, his life never growing up and never growing old. He imagined.

But he's always been bad at believing. Sooner or later, his imagination runs into doubts. Fear. What if, what if, what if... 

He can imagine failing too. Being wrong. That's the problem.

Henry's heart, on the other hand, is radiating belief as Pan holds it. No wonder, with the family that boy has, and with the added certainty of childhood. So much belief. So much power. 

“We're being attacked!” Felix calls out as he hurries into the room, panting.

“I know,” Pan says, squeezing the heart just ever so lightly. “Let them meet enough resistance to think we're seriously trying to stop them, but let them come.”

“Peter?”

“I want them here,” Pan says impatiently. “Now do as I say.”

Felix leaves, looking confused. It doesn't matter. As long as the boy does as he's told, this will still work. 

With a sigh, he puts Henry's heart down. Behind him, the hourglass groans slightly. It's almost run out of time, his time. His damn imagination at work again. Still, with Henry's belief, he can keep it eternally filled. 

He puts a few token magic wards on the heart, then walks just outside. He feels more than hears the magic, and smiles faintly.

Moments later he walks into the room again. As expected, the Evil Queen is there, reaching for the heart, but held in place by strong vines sprouting from the ground.

“Hello, Regina,” he says merrily. 

She glares at him, eyes dark. 

“Enjoying my little contraption?” he goes on. “It feeds on regret. I imagined it myself. I thought it would work well on any of your little group, but you... The Evil Queen. All the regret that must be eating away at you.”

Regina snarls, then groans as the vines wrap her more tightly.

“Oh yes,” he says happily, darkly. “All that regret. It's going to strangle you to death. Rather poetic, don't you think?”

“Let me go,” Regina commands, and he has to be impressed at how much she manages to sound like a queen even while trapped and being strangled.

“No,” he says. “You can stay here and die with your regrets, knowing that little family of yours that you adopted will remain here forever. I'll let little Henry's heart keep you company while you die, though. I'm not completely heartless. ”

With that, he properly leaves, smiling as he does. 

II

“They're attacking Skull Rock!” Tink says breathlessly, and Neal looks up at his father, who grimaces. 

“Pan will be expecting them,” he says, and Neal can only nod. Yes. They'll be walking into a trap. Maybe they even know that, and are risking it anyway. 

“Papa, we have to do something,” he says. “ _Now_.”

His father closes his eyes, letting out a slow breath. Then he nods. 

“Yes,” he says quietly, sounding like a man walking to his death. “I'm ready.”

II

Emma knows her parents are Snow White and Prince Charming, but seeing it in action, that's still another matter entirely. She's not sure she'll ever be quite used to that, her mother with her bow and arrows and her father with his sword, fighting as if they were born to do it. 

Still. She is right there with them, keeping her wall of magic up and reflecting every arrow coming at them while Snow and Charming disarms anyone that comes too close. Graham is sneaking between the trees, quietly ensuring no one sneaks up on them behind.

It is working really well. Too well, and Emma knows that. She can feel it like a prickle at the back of her neck, a warning. Not even what seems like an attempted ambush makes the feeling go away.

It's too easy.

From the gazes her parents exchange, she is pretty sure they're thinking the same thing. (The fact that she's beginning to learn their silent communication is giving her a moment of pride, though.) 

She becomes even more sure when they come to the entrance to the cave, and only a few lost boys are there. 

“Dad,” she whispers, and he nods at her. Yes, her parents are thinking the same thing.

“Well done,” a voice says, and Emma whips around to see Peter Pan just a few feet away, applauding. Before she can even think, her wall of magic falters. “You have a good imagination, savior. But mine is better.”

Her father steps in front of her, holding up his sword, but Pan just laughs. 

“Too late to protect her, shepherd.”

“No,” David says. “I refuse to believe that. I will always protect her.”

For a moment, Pan actually looks taken aback, Emma notices. Huh. Then he seems to compose himself and just grins. 

“Welcome to my humble abode, Charmings,” he says, making a mock bow. “I hope you enjoy the stay, since it will be forever.”

“I don't think so,” Emma says, eyeing him carefully. 

“Were you counting on your pet Evil Queen to make sure it wouldn't be?” he says mockingly. “I'm sorry, she's trapped and dying as we speak.”

“Regina,” Mary Margaret says, sounding worried. 

“Worried about her, Snow White?” he says, shaking his head. “So very annoying. Why can't villains and heroes stay at each other's throats as they should? It ruins decades of planning, let me tell you.”

“What do you mean?” Emma asks, and he turns his attention to her again. 

“Do you know how much one act can change the whole picture? When the Evil Queen took your parents' offer of a second chance, it unraveled a carefully woven web – mine.” He shakes his head, giving her parents a look Emma doesn't like at all. “I was forced to improvise.”

“Is that what this is? Improvisation?” she asks. Keep him talking, that's important. Bragging villains always lose, isn't that something Henry would tell her?

“This?” he says, holding out his hands. “No, this is theater. Why don't you come out, Henry.”

Her parents look at each other in horror, and Emma feels her heart constrict painfully. Then she sees the small figure of her son, their son, stepping out from among the trees.

“Henry!” Mary Margaret calls, and he shifts guiltily. “How...”

“I knocked out Hook with a rock,” Henry says, and David makes a noise that is somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “I couldn't let you do this alone. This is about me.”

“That's right,” Pan says softly advancing on Henry even as Mary Margaret readies her bow. “It is about you. You can be the hero. You can save your whole family.”

“No!” Mary Margaret says forcefully, and then she is thrown back by magic, and Emma can hear herself cry out just like David and Henry does. 

“Or,” she can hear Pan say darkly. “You can watch your whole family die, Henry. You choice.”


	107. Chapter One Hundred and Six

II

**Chapter One Hundred and Six**

II

Regret. 

Regina does feel it. So much regret, so much remorse, literally choking the life out of her. She regrets... She regrets not blaming her mother when she should have, she regrets all the anger, she regrets all those she killed, she regrets...

She's dying, she thinks faintly. Dying from her regrets. Perhaps there is a sick, twisted irony in that. Maybe she even deserves it.

Except... Except that leaves the Charmings to face Pan alone. Her family. They are, she thinks with a pain that doesn't come from the vines constricting her. They've become her family, giving her that second chance.

She doesn't regret taking that. 

She doesn't.

The vines loosen slightly, and she draws a shuddering breath. Could that save her? Can that one choice she doesn't regret at all be stronger than all the regrets she does have? 

Maybe.

Regina closes her eyes and thinks of her family, and feels no regrets. 

II

Henry, Charming thinks painfully, watching sin son with equal amounts of pride and despair. Of course their son would want to be a hero. 

“Henry,” Emma says next to him, the fear in her voice thick. Her son too, after all. “Henry, don't listen to him.”

Pan laughs. “Should he listen to you instead, savior? You have done such a great job at saving your father, after all. He's dying of poison right next to you.”

Emma closes her eyes in pain, and as much as it pains Charming, it is heartwarming too. His daughter doesn't want to lose him.

“I would gladly die for my family,” he says hotly. 

“But you don't have to,” Pan says, and he is smiling at Henry. “There is a cure. The water from Dead Pan's Peek will save him. He just has to drink. They all have to drink it.”

“Forcing us to stay in Neverland forever,” Snow says, and he can feel her take his hand. 

“Yes,” Pan says, and smiles yet again. Henry is watching him intently. “I'll let you all be free. You just have to drink the water. And all that belief you have in them, Henry, will be in Neverland too.”

“They'll be safe?” Henry asks.

“They'll be with you forever,” Pan promises.

“We can't let him do this,” Snow murmurs in a low voice, and Charming can only nod. 

“No, Henry,” he cuts in and Henry turns to look at him. “That will keep you a kid forever. You'll never grow up, never find a family of your own... We want that for you, Henry.”

Snow nods with tears in her eyes. “And it's not just for you, Henry. We were going to wait with telling you and Emma, but...”

He voice falters, and he squeezes her hand reassuringly. 

“You're going to have a brother or sister,” she finally manages to say, her voice breaking. 

“What?” Pan says, and he looks taken aback for a moment. 

Emma looks up sharply, her face a careful mask. Oh, how he wishes they didn't have to do this now, that they had even more time to reassure Emma how loved she is before dropping this on them. But they can't let Henry make this choice.

Henry is watching Snow with wide eyes, taking a step forward. 

“I'm going to be a big brother?” he asks quietly. 

“Yes,” Charming says proudly, looking at Emma. “And Emma is going to be a big sister twice over.”

She smiles, almost sadly, and he aches to hug her. He knows Snow is too, he can practically feel the need radiating from her. 

“But dad...” Henry says, and there are tears in his eyes. 

“Your dad will die,” Pan cuts in, clearly trying to recover. “You have to save your dad, Henry. Emma's dad. Your mother's true love. You know there won't be a happy ending for any of you without Prince Charming. You can save him, Henry. You can save all of them.”

“He could,” a giggling voice says, and into the light steps Rumpelstiltskin, in full Dark One mode. “But that's a rather bad deal you're offering him, dearie. I think he'd much rather take mine.”

There is a brief silence.

Then Pan's magic slams against Rumpelstiltskin's, and they all fall backwards from the force of the clash. 

II

Neal can see the sky light up with magic, and knows his father has done as promised – keeping Pan occupied. He bites back the sense of guilt over possibly having sent his father to his death, and instead focuses on the task he's been set – draining the poison from the squid. It will stun anyone who touches it, and disable their magic too. 

A weapon against Pan. He just needs to get it ready, and fast. 

'Just hold out, papa,' he thinks.

Wendy has gone with Ariel to find Hook's ship. Ariel will be able to tow them back to Storybrooke (provided they can magically shield the boat, of course, since she will be taking them underwater). 

“Hi,” a musical voice says next to him, and he turns around to see a small fairy looking at him curiously. “Ariel sent me to help. I'm Tinkerbell.”

“I'm Neal,” he says, and she smiles. “You're a fairy?”

“I don't know,” she says sadly. “I was. Pan believed in me. I don't know if I can be a fairy if no one believes in me.”

“I believe in you,” Neal says with absolute conviction. If it saves Emma and Henry, he will believe in anything. 

“You do?” she asks, her eyes suddenly sparkling.

“Yes,” he says, finally pulling the poison gland free from the squid's body at last. “And I need your help.”

II

They all hit the ground painfully, and Snow feels her husband's grip on her falter and then he is lost. She feels dazed, the wind knocked out of her, and it seems to take forever before her vision returns. 

She can barely see through the magic clashing, and the roar of it makes it hard to hear as well. She can make out the shapes of Rumpelstiltskin and Pan, but they seem blurred and strained, as if reality itself is tearing at the edges. 

“Bravery from you, little brother?” she can hear the mocking voice of Pan call out. “I hardly believe it!”

“I grew up,” Rumpelstilskin says, and he looks almost bright for a moment. 

Brother, she thinks faintly. They're brothers?

“Snow,” Charming whispers to her, and she can see him a few feet away, cradling Emma in his lap. Their daughter is clearly passed out, and Snow makes a strangled cry, crawling closer. 

There is a nasty gash on Emma's forehead, but she does seem to be breathing, Snow notices as she reaches them. Charming gives her a reassuring nod, but his skin looks pale and drawn in the shifting lights from the magical battle ranging around them. 

“Henry?” she calls out. 

“I have him!” Graham calls out, and Snow sighs in relief. 

“You cannot win this!” Pan calls out. “This is Neverland. This is my world. You know you cannot win, little brother, so why fight at all?”

“Because I am not my father,” Rumpelstiltskin calls out, laughing, and Snow wonders if he's gone mad. “And because I don't need to beat you. I just need to distract you long enough for my son to stun you.”

“What?” Pan says, and then the magic light around him blinks and fails. In the dark, Snow can barely make out a shape of a man. 

A lot of things seem to happen at once, but almost in slow motion, Snow notes, her ears ringing. Emma blinks and opens her eyes, staring up at her father. Rumpelstiltskin staggers to his knees and the sound and light of magic goes out completely, leaving the night dark. Pan hisses, frozen in place. Henry runs towards them, Graham right on his heels. The shape steps into view, and Snow hears herself gasp.

Neal.

Neal, who should be dead, but who clearly isn't. 

“I'll explain later,” Neal says to all their stunned expressions, kneeling down. “Tink was able to teleport me here with her fairy dust. I used squid ink to stun him, but it won't last long. We have to leave. Now.”

“Henry's heart.... Regina...” Snow says, her voice faltering. They can't have lost Regina. They can't. Not after all this. 

“Your lack of faith in me is astounding,” a voice says behind them, and Snow wonders if the sarcastic tone of her step-mother has ever sounded quite as sweet.

“Regina!” she gasps, turning around to see Regina trying to look stern and unaffected and failing badly. “Pan said you...”

“He trapped me,” Regina says, trying to sound casual and failing yet again. “He was going to kill me through my own regrets.”

“But...” Snow says, and Regina's eyes soften.

“Turns out I do have one thing I don't regret,” she says, looking at them all, and Snow follows her gaze to see Charming still holding Emma, Henry clutching Charming's belt with Graham's protective hand on his shoulder. “It saved me.”

A family, Snow thinks. Her family, and through her also Regina's family, she knows what Regina doesn't regret.

Fiercely, she pulls Regina into a hug, and moments later, she feels Regina hug her back. 

“Don't worry about Henry's heart,” Regina whispers in her ear, and Snow feels herself grin.

“Touching as it is seeing the Evil Queen hugging Snow White, we have to leave _now_ ,” Gold says, limping towards them and looking towards Pan, who is eyeing them all hatefully. “We have to get to the Jolly Roger.”

“Yes, we do,” Regina says, stepping away from Snow, but not before touching her cheek almost motherly. 

Charming just nods, standing up with Emma in his arms, and Snow swallows at the memory of the last time he held their daughter. 

“That won't be fast enough, dearie,” Gold says, but he sounds tired. He looks drained too. “We need magic, and I am all out. We need Regina's magic for our journey home.”

“Emma?” Charming says softly, and she looks at him, clearly still dazed. “Honey? Can you take us all to the Jolly Roger with your magic?”

“I don't know,” she says, and Snow takes her daughter's hand.

“I know,” she says fiercely.

“I know,” Charming repeats, pressing a kiss against Emma's forehead.

“I know,” Henry says quietly, but his voice is strong.

“I know,” Graham agrees, and Emma smiles faintly. Then she nods, closes her eyes and Snow feels the rush of magic around them.

Moments later they're all on the Jolly Roger, collapsing onto the wooden deck, and Snow feels tears sting her eyes. She feels overwhelmed, adrift, only clinging on by her fingertips.

“The poison?” she asks Gold, looking at Charming. He meets her gaze lovingly, and she knows he's ready to die happily if it means the rest of them will get home safely. But she's not willing to let him. 

“With Tink's fairydust, the water from dead Pan's Peek and a touch of your true love, I can make a cure,” Gold tells her, and she almost staggers in relief. “But we need to leave this world right now. Regina, are you ready?”

Regina nods. Then magic flares from her hand and the ship is shielded. Hook is already at the wheel, Snow now notices, as if he was waiting for them. Around him, Tink is buzzing, looking excited.

Then the ship dives downwards, into the sea. 

Home, Snow thinks, and leans against her husband while putting an arm around Henry. They're going home.

II

No, Pan thinks darkly. 

He knows they've already left his realm. He can feel it. He can follow them, but outside of Neverland, his magic is less strong. He won't be certain of winning. 

The last of the squid ink gives out, and he hisses as he's freed. Filling himself with his magic again, he quickly imagines himself back in his room where he left Henry's heart to trap the witch. 

Oh, he thinks as he notices the pulsing heart still where he left it. The witch must have managed to free herself somehow, but not break the wards on the heart. Perhaps she didn't have enough magic, and chose to safe herself rather than the boy. 

How very Evil Queen of her.

At least it will allow him his revenge, he thinks, and pulls the heart into his palm and squeezes.

II

In the dark jungle of Neverland, Tamara makes a sharp gasp at the pain as her heart is slowly squeezed to dust.

Then she dies.


	108. Chapter One Hundred and Seven

II

**Chapter One Hundred and Seven**

II

Neal is alive, Emma has registered, but somehow, her mind can’t quite seem to process it. She feels like she’s asleep but awake, the strange lull of the sea all around them adding to the strange sensation. She can vaguely feel the pulse of Regina’s magic as well, keeping the shield around them strong.

Most of all she feels her family all around her. Her father hasn’t let go of her, keeping her in his arms and now slowly carrying her below deck. Her mother is holding her hand (and has only let go to accept a beating heart from Regina), and Henry and Graham are also hovering nearby. 

They’re all here, she thinks, and closes her eyes. Vaguely, she can hear Gold promise to work on the cure for her father and give Henry his shadow back come morning. She also picks up on the fact that apparently all the lost boys who wanted to leave Neverland are below decks as well, a girl named Wendy having persuaded them and managed to bring them. 

Good, she thinks, and closes her eyes. No child should have to be lost that doesn't want to be. 

Next she knows, David is tucking her in. She lets him, enjoying the gentle way he adjusts the covers around her. Henry crawls in next to her, taking her hand. She smiles at him, as David and Mary Margaret both kiss her forehead, then Henry’s.

“Henry?” Mary Margaret says softly. In her hand, a heart is pulsing. Henry’s, of course. Regina got it back, though how, Emma isn’t sure. She isn’t even sure she wants to know how. 

Henry looks at David, who already knows what it’s like to have a heart returned, and David gives him an encouraging nod. 

“I’m ready, mom,” Henry says, his voice shaking just a little. Mary Margaret nods, but Emma can see her mother take a deep breath before extending her hand and pressing against Henry’s chest. 

Henry gasps painfully, and Emma pulls him closer. Then Mary Margaret pulls her hand back, now empty. 

“Henry?” she asks anxiously. 

“Mom,” Henry simply says, with so much love in his voice Emma’s heart aches a little, and pulls Mary Margaret down for a fierce hug. A moment later David embraces them both as well, and Emma joins in as much as she can manage.

She’s so, so tired. 

Mary Margaret smiles at them both with tears in her eyes as she pulls back, and David puts an arm around her. 

“We’re going home, Henry,” she says, and Emma can only nod. Yes. Home. Storybrooke. It is her home now. 

“I’ll watch them,” Graham says from the shadows, and her parents nod. They trust Graham, Emma knows. With their lives, and maybe they’ll even learn to trust him with her heart, a far more precious thing according to them. 

Just like she is learning to.

From the door, Neal nods at her. He looks sad as his gaze sweeps across them, a little family, and Henry looking up at David with a son’s admiration and love. Then he slips out.

“Mr. Gold will be here tomorrow to give you your shadow back, Henry,” David says quietly. “We’ll be here when he’s ready. Why don’t you and your big sister get some sleep until then? Even heroes need to get their strength back.”

Henry nods seriously, Emma sees, and she manages to give an affirmative nod herself. Mary Margaret smiles at them both, brushing another soft kiss against their foreheads before she and David leaves. 

“You were brave, kid,” Emma murmurs, and Henry looks at almost sadly. He doesn’t feel like a hero, she knows. He doesn’t know yet that just surviving can be the most heroic act of all. Actually, she hopes he never learns that.

“You were heroic, mom,” he tells her. “Just like dad and our mom.”

Emma thinks of their parents and smiles faintly. Their fairy tale parents, Prince Charming and Snow White. Still feels odd to consider, but she’s getting more used to it. She thinks. Maybe.

“And I’m going to be a big brother,” Henry says with quiet satisfaction. Emma says nothing to that. She doesn’t want to think about that right now, not when she isn’t sure how she’ll feel about it once she starts thinking about it. 

It can wait, she thinks. 

“Emma?” Henry asks quietly.

“Yeah, kid?”

“I’m still afraid of him,” he says, and she knows who he is thinking of. Pan. 

“I am too,” she admits, and he looks surprised. “He made me feel like a lost girl all over again.”

“But you’re not,” Henry says with determination. “I found you.”

“That you did, kid,” she agrees. Emma Swan, found. Yeah. She thinks in time she might just get used to thinking of herself like that. 

With that, she puts an arm around Henry and pulls him just a little closer, and finally gives in to an uneasy sleep.

II

Regina smiles as her magic acts as a bubble around them, keeping them safe from the sea while Ariel tows them through the sea. She knows she should be feeling exhausted, but the triumph she’s feeling seems to drown out everything else.

Good thing too, as she’ll need to stay awake for hours to maintain this shield. 

Hook is leaning against the steering wheel as Regina sits down on the deck, keeping most of her attention on the steady flow of magic required. They’re all alone, everyone else having gone below deck to get some rest. Even Wendy and Tinkerbell have left, seeming to have struck up a bit of a friendship.

“I think the mermaid has the steering of this ship under control,” Regina says after a while, but Hook merely winks at her.

“What sort of pirate would ever admit he’s not needed for steering at his ship?” he jokes, and she raises an eyebrow.

“Your piratehood feeling threatened, Hook?”

“Arr,” he jokes, and she gives him a pointed look that just makes him smile. He leans against the wheel, watching the stars, and she wonders if he has no intention to leave at all. 

“Why are you here, Hook?” she finally asks.

“Thought you might like the company, love,” he says, and there is nothing but sincerity in his voice. 

“I might,” she acknowledges. “As long as you manage to be slightly less annoying than usual. I have to maintain this magic shield through the night.”

“A hard task, but I shall endeavor,” he says seriously. “Magic on, love. Straight on till morning.”

II

It's a few hours later when a soft knock rouses Charming from his sleep. Snow is awake already, he notices, and already on her feet. He fell asleep immediately, still in his clothes, but he suspects Snow may have stayed awake to monitor his poisoning. 

He takes her hand as they both move to open the door, Gold standing on the other side. Snow clutches his hand with worry, and Charming feels his own heart skip a bit. Gold may have claimed to be able to make a cure for him, but there is always the possibility that it might not work.

Gold inclines his head almost respectfully, then holds out his hand. In it, a small vial glitters.

“Is it…?” Snow gasps.

“This will cure your charming husband,” Gold says, and David picks it up hesitantly. It feels almost too easy.

“What’s the price?” he asks. He wants to know, to make sure Snow or his children aren’t forced to pay it.

“It’s on the house,” Gold says, and David gives him a look at that. “I have my son back. I am in a generous mood. I need a few hours rest, then I shall return young Henry's shadow to him.”

“Thank you,” David tells him sincerely, and Gold inclines his head again. Then he leaves, and it’s just David and Snow. Slowly, Charming closes the door and stares at the vial in his hand. 

The cure. 

“What are you waiting for?” Snow asks impatiently, and he pulls the cork off the vial and downs it in one go. For a moment, nothing much seems to happen. But then, he feels a strange heat through the area where the arrow struck. 

It’s working, he realizes. 

Snow is looking at him, waiting for his reaction. She looks so very exhausted and so very beautiful, his wife, his Snow, the one he can once again look forward to growing old with.

He smiles as he moves to kiss her, feeling her lips curve into a smile against his after a few moments. Her arms go around his neck, and he puts his own arms around her to lift her up and spin her around joyously. 

They kiss happily, her lips so very soft against his until he lowers her back onto her feet and reverently cradles her head in his hands. He kisses her once again, putting all his love into it, and she sighs happily into it. 

“Let me see,” she says intently, and he knows she needs to reassure herself the poison is really gone. He would have needed to do the same. 

She helps him pull his shirt off, letting it drop carelessly to the floor. Her hands are warm as she caresses his skin, reassuring herself there is only a small wound from the arrow remaining, with no signs of poison. Gently, she presses her lips against the wound, a lingering kiss. 

“I love you,” he says, kissing the top of her head. She tilts her head up to meet his gaze, and the love he sees in her eyes makes him breathless, as always. 

He kisses her as she kisses him, their lips meeting forcefully, and parting as the kiss deepens. She moans softly into his mouth as his hands move to her waist and finds exposed skin. Her palms are brushing his chest, so very warm against his skin. 

“Charming,” she mouths into the kiss, and he can hear the need in it, a need he echoes. In a few quick steps, he has backed her over to the bunk. It is she who sits down first, pulling her with him, though he’s quite, quite willing. 

They make love with a quiet intensity, not frantic yet not quite relaxed, kissing and touching as much as possible while finding a rhythm that seems to match the faint pulse from the magic around them. Snow bites into his shoulder as she comes; he gasps her name into her neck as he does.

They fall asleep again together, tangled in each other. Charming wakes up at least twice during the night, once to see Snow kissing the wound on his chest and once, after a vague nightmare, to pull her closer.

Eventually, he wakes up to see Snow watching him through heavy eyelids. It must be morning, he thinks, but it’s hard to tell since they’re under water. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, kissing her. She smiles into the kiss before kissing him back until he feels happily breathless. 

“Hey,” she finally replies. She bites her lip. “I was afraid this would be just a dream.”

“No dream,” he assures her, caressing her cheek. “We actually did it.”

They all did it, Emma and Regina and Rumple and Henry and Hook and Graham and even Neal (quite the surprise to have him alive with them). They did it. They got Henry back, and they’re all safe and well and going home. 

It’s almost like a happy ending, he reckons. 

II

There aren’t always happy endings, Neal knows, as he enters the room to see Emma and Henry still sleeping in a bunk. This could have been his family, but will never quite be. He knows that now, painfully so. Emma loves Graham, he is fairly sure, and Henry, Henry will always be Snow and Charming’s son more than his. 

Yes, they will make room for him in Henry’s life. They are generous enough for that. But it won’t be the same. It won’t the family he might have had. If only…. 

He sighs, and Emma opens her eyes to look at him. She seems half asleep still, but her gaze is steady. 

“I’m glad you’re still alive,” she murmurs, and it sounds sincere. It probably is, but he also knows it’s not the reaction Snow and Charming had knowing the other would live. He will never have that with Emma. If he ever had the chance to, it’s lost. 

“I am too,” he says, making her chuckle softly. Then her eyes slide shut, and she sleeps on. 

“You’re lucky,” he says after a while, and glances over at Graham, who has apparently kept watch through the night. 

“I know,” Graham says, and Neal believes that. 

The door opens quietly, and his father steps inside, looking tired. He risked his life to get them all safely home, Neal knows, and feels his heart ache at that. He wouldn’t have believed that of his father just weeks ago, but now…

“Henry?” Rumple says quietly, and Henry opens his eyes. “Are you ready to have your shadow back?”

“Yes,” Henry says. Emma has opened her eyes again as well, hugging Henry close. Neal just watches them, almost feeling like he’s intruding. 

“I’ll get Snow and Charming,” Graham says, stepping out. They all wait, a few minutes passing before Snow and Charming enter, holding hands and looking determined if still tired (and hurriedly dressed). They both kneel down by the bunk, taking one of Henry’s hands each while Emma hugs him.

Rumple takes a deep breath. Then he groans and something dark slides out of him, making a noise that makes Neal’s hairs stand on end. Henry’s shadow seems linger in the air for a moment, then sinks to Henry’s feet and shrinks. 

“Henry?” Snow asks anxiously. 

Henry stands to his feet, and they can all see the shadow at his feet, as normal as any other’s.

“I feel…. Normal,” Henry says, and then he is being hugged by Snow and Charming and Emma, and Neal’s heart aches again. But he manages to smile, especially when Charming turns to look at him.

“Thank you, Gold. Thank you, Neal,” he says, almost formally, and Neal just nods quietly. Then he glances sideways at his father, and notices that Rumple is barely managing to stay on his feet. 

“Papa?”

“I’m just tired, son,” Rumple says, trying a reassuring smile that quickly falters.

“Lean on me,” Neal tells him, and his father looks at him with agonizing tenderness, then takes his arm and leans on him. 

The ship groans. A moment later they hear something akin to a ‘pop’, and the ship rocks before steadying again.

“What was that?” Charming asks, sounding worried. He looks ready to reach for a sword, and Snow is clutching Henry and Emma’s shoulders protectively. 

The door opens and Regina peeks inside. She looks tired, Neal notes, and has probably had a long night.

“We’re here,” she says shortly. “Storybrooke.”

“Home,” Emma says, and she sounds happy, smiling up at her parents. 

Home, Neal thinks. Is it really?

II

A crowd is already gathering in the harbor, watching the Jolly Roger approaching. It’s a majestic sight, especially with a mermaid leaping alongside it. 

Zelena watches the ship from the shadows, with her arms folded. At last. She was very disappointed to have finally made it to Storybrooke only to find Regina not here and out on an adventure with the Jolly Roger instead. Very disappointed, but now… Now.

She smiles.

“Welcome home, sis,” she says.


	109. Chapter One Hundred and Eight

II

**Chapter One Hundred and Eight**

II

The crowd seems overwhelming, buzzing all around him as Rumple leans on his son. Buzz, buzz, buzz, all happiness and 'welcome homes' to the Charming clan. He gets a few cautious glances, but he can hear how Snow tells everyone in a loud voice that Mr. Gold really helped, and after that at least a few glances turn to respectful nods instead. 

He feels her before he sees her. His heart seems to skip a beat, and then he turns to see the crowd part as she walks through it. Her eyes are beaming, her face is bright; she is all light, nearly blinding. 

Belle.

Bae steps away just as she reaches them, and then Belle is embracing him, lowering her head on his shoulder. 

“You came back to me,” she says, choked up but so happy his heart aches with it.

“I came back to you,” he agrees, and wonders if this is what a happy ending might feel like. 

II

Somehow, they end up at Granny's at an impromptu party. Everyone seems so pleased to see them that Snow doesn't have the heart to say they would all rather just go home and sleep for a week, so here they are.

Only Gold and Belle slip away quietly early on, and Snow can't say she blames them. She even considers sneaking away with Charming herself, but Granny has already caught them making out in a supply closet twice and would probably not be impressed by a third time. 

The dwarfs, Ruby and Granny quickly whip up a feast as well as spreading the word that the Lost Boys will be needing homes. They will get them, Snow is certain. Many families become so through choice rather than blood, and Regina smiles almost softly at her from across the room. 

Henry seems to revel in the chance of being the center of attention, telling the story of their adventures on Neverland with relish and quite loudly too. He even manages to let it slip that he's becoming a big sister, and the room erupts in congratulations.

Only Emma is quiet, and Snow catches her eye and aches for her. 

“Emma...” she tries, but Emma just shakes her head.

“Not now, mom,” she says, and Snow feels the ever-present ache and joy at that particular word.

“Yes, I am that,” she agrees, pulling her daughter into a fierce hug. “That is never going to change, Emma. No matter what.” 

She can feel Emma soften, sighing slightly. “I know.”

They hold each other for a moment, and Emma is smiling slightly when Snow pulls back. They look at each other for a moment longer, and Snow cannot resist cradling Emma's face in her hands and pressing a very soft kiss to her forehead. 

“I love you,” she murmurs, and Emma nods ever so slightly, accepting. 

“Excuse me,” Neal's voice cuts in, and Emma stiffens slightly. “Emma, can we talk?”

Emma closes her eyes for a moment, looking almost pained. Then she nods. “I'll meet you outside.”

Neal nods, already heading for the door. 

“Emma,” Snow says softly, keeping her voice light but with the slightest hint of protectiveness. Emma seems to catch up on it, giving her a fond, if annoyed look.

“I'll be fine, mom,” she says. “Stop worrying.”

“Mother's prerogative to worry,” Snow counters, and Emma's gaze flickers over to where Henry is chatting excitedly. 

“Right,” Emma says. Her daughter is starting to feel and think like a mother too, Snow knows, and wonders if Emma might even consider having another child one day. Charming would probably gives Graham murderous looks for months, but to see their daughter have the chance to truly raise a child of her own... 

Emma steps away before Snow can finish her train of thought, following Neal outside. Graham watches thoughtfully from a corner, she notices, eyes dark. 

“Should I get my sword?” Charming murmurs into her ear, slipping his arms around her from behind. She leans back against his strong chest, sighing softly when he kisses her neck. 

“Our daughter can handle herself,” she points out, and Charming hums in agreement. 

“Father's prerogative to be protective anyway,” he counters after a moment, and she chuckles softly. 

“Parents',” she corrects him. “If you get the sword, I'll get my bow.”

He chuckles, pressing another kiss against her neck that makes her skin tingle. 

“I love it when you talk like that,” he murmurs huskily, and she knows that despite the exhaustion, sleeping will not be the first thing they do in bed tonight. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she says, closing her eyes. They've gotten through so much together with their love just as strong, and she will always be grateful for that. 

II

Emma crosses her arms, feeling the chill of the wind. It's getting dark as well, the stars starting to come out above. Another evening in Storybrooke, and she feels a strange sort of peace at that.

They're _home_.

“I'm sorry about Tamara,” Neal offers. He looks awkward, as if he's not sure what to say.

“I'm sorry too,” she says after a moment. He was engaged to the woman, after all. He was deceived, and she can well imagine the heartbreak of realizing you've been fooled. 

“I didn't truly love her,” he says suddenly, and she looks up sharply. “It wasn't... Wasn't what Snow and Charming have. It wasn't what we...”

“ _No_ ,” she says sharply. “You don't get to tell me that. You _don't_. You left me.”

He looks almost angry, she notices. “I didn't want to.”

“You chose to,” she says. 

Neal swallows, staring at her intently. “I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry about everything.”

“Everything?” she says sarcastically. “Even meeting me?”

“Yes,” he says. “Then I wouldn't have broken your heart.”

She closes her eyes, feeling years of heartache and betrayal bubble up, the taste of it sharp and bitter. She could drown in it, she's certain, if she chose to. 

She doesn't want to.

“No,” she says, opening her eyes. “If I hadn't met you, I wouldn't have Henry. I wouldn't have my parents, who raised Henry to be wonderful boy. I wouldn't have... Have Graham.”

Neal looks pained. “Emma...”

“A part of me was relieved when I thought you were dead,” she goes on, harshly, and Neal swallows. “Because it would be easier for me. But easy isn't always right.”

She turns slightly, looking into the diner. She can make up the shapes of her parents, holding each other while watching Henry. Oh, it's complicated. It's hard sometimes. But it's right. 

“I forgive you,” she says, and means it. “I've forgiven my parents. They wanted me to have my best chance, like I wanted Henry to. I know that now. But we'll never have what we could have had. I know that too. What we'll have, is what we're making now. A different kind of family.”

“What are you saying?” Neal asks, and she feels no pleasure in the pain she sees on his face. He did love her, she knows. It would be easier to think that he didn't. 

“Be in Henry's life. See if you can forgive your father,” she says. “But don't look to me for what we could have had.”

He nods very slowly, looking down at the ground before looking up again. His expression is soft, almost wistful. “Goodbye, Emma.”

“Goodbye, Neal,” she echoes, knowing that they will see each other after this, yes. But it is still a goodbye.

He walks inside, and she hugs herself, wishing she didn't want to cry. It feels like letting something go, and even if she knows it's right... It's hard. 

She's not sure how long it's been when she feels Graham's arms slip around her, and she leans into him. He says nothing, and she's grateful for that. In a strange way, she almost believes he understands, that he might know her well enough by now to understand her. 

“Your parents are about ready to go home,” he says after a while. 

“I am too,” she murmurs. She turns in his arms, pressing her forehead against his. “I will see you tomorrow.”

“I'm coming with you,” he says, and she looks at him in surprise. “To sleep on the couch. Your father threatened to behead me if I slept elsewhere, so I had to agree to those terms, but I am not leaving you.”

She cannot help but smile. She can well imagine what her dad said, and on another day she might even be annoyed at it, but tonight... 

Tonight she will simply be happy with what she does have, and won't think about what might have been. 

II

Henry is making the rounds saying goodnight to everyone, Neal included, when Regina marches up to Snow with a rather determined look. 

“When are we leaving?” Regina says briskly, and Snow raises an eyebrow. 

“We?”

“I am staying at your place tonight,” Regina says in a tone of voice that doesn't invite any sort of argument. “As the last few weeks have proved, your family of idiots is incapable of staying out of trouble for even a night. So I am coming.”

“Regina...”

“Don't worry, I won't make a habit of sleep-overs at the Charmings',” Regina says, trying to sound simply sarcastic and almost succeeding. “I will have a permanent magical barrier set up tomorrow when I have all my supplies.”

“Regina...”

“I'll bring a bed,” Regina goes on, purposely ignore Snow's attempts to say something. “Magically, of course. I am not dragging a bed across town.”

“Regina,” Snow says pointedly, and Regina finally stops talking. “Of course you can come. I was just trying to say...”

“What?” Regina asks, but her expression has softened.

“That family of idiots I have... That includes _you_ , Regina. You're family.”

Regina softens, then simply gives a small nod and walks away as briskly as she approached. Snow smiles faintly, thinking about the complicated tangle that is her family. Her growing family, and she touches her stomach softly.

“Congratulations,” a cheerful voice says, and she looks up to see a red-haired woman smile at her. “I'm sorry, I overheard your son announce it.”

“Not how we planned to give the news,” Snow says dryly. “I'm sorry, have we met?”

“Now we have,” the woman says, flashing a brilliant smile. “I'm Zelena.”

Snow accepts her hand. “Zelena. I'm sorry, your name isn't familiar.”

“No reason it should be to royals such as yourself and your Prince Charming,” Zelena says brightly. “I was a simple midwife in the Enchanted Forest.”

“Oh,” Snow says, glancing down at her stomach without thinking. 

“I would be happy to help if you should need it,” Zelena goes on. “It would be an honor to bring a baby like that into the world. A product of true love.”

Snow feels something prickle at the back of her neck, but before she can think more about it, Zelena gives her another smile and walks away. 

“Ready to go home?” Charming asks, coming up next to her. He's got an arm around Henry, who is looking ready to fall asleep then and there. Graham and Emma are approaching as well, and even if Charming is giving Graham stern looks, she knows her husband is also happy their daughter has found someone as unwilling to leave her side as Charming is to leave Snow's. 

Regina is hovering nearby protectively, trying to look simply bored. 

Her family, she thinks happily. A husband of two realms, former evil step-mother, a daughter the same age as them, a son that is also a grandson and another baby on the way. Not the family she and Charming envisioned so long ago, but what could have been doesn't matter. What matters is what they have now, and what they have now...

She loves.

“Ready,” she tells Charming, and takes his hand. 

II

Neal is on his seventh drink when someone sits down next to him. Granny's is almost empty now, most having left after the Charmings did. The rest is going to be thrown out fairly soon, Neal is certain, judging by the looks Granny is giving them. 

“You look like you could drink all night,” a voice says, and he glances up at the woman who's taken the spot next to him. Bright, red hair, and an almost too friendly smile. 

He shrugs. “Coming back from the dead does that.”

She laughs. “Were you part of that delightful family everyone was so excited to see back in town?”

“I could have been,” he says bitterly. She raises an eyebrow. “Have you ever wished you could change the past?”

“Oh, darling,” she says, and something in her tone makes the hair on the back of his neck rise. “You have no idea.”


	110. Chapter One Hundred and Nine

II 

Chapter One Hundred and Nine

II

Snow wakes slowly, almost drifting awake, becoming gradually more and more aware of her surroundings. She's in bed, wonderfully cocooned in blankets and Charming, her husband's arms around her and his forehead resting against hers. He's stroking her back softly, so she knows he's awake. There is light, a lot of light, and it must be late morning.

She can hear faint noises from the kitchen, Regina's occasionally sharp voice mixed with Graham's, and she's pretty sure she can smell food being cooked. 

“Is Regina really making us breakfast?” she murmurs sleepily. 

Charming chuckles. “Or she's more or less ordering Graham to and supervising the results, but it's the thought that counts, right?”

Snow just smiles at that. With Regina, she'll let that count, yes. “I can't believe they all stayed over.”

“Mmm,” Charming murmurs, kissing her forehead. “We seem to be expanding our family in more than one way.”

His palm slides down to her stomach, and she puts her own hand on his. 

“Yeah,” she says, feeling tears prickle her eyes. Happy tears in some ways, relieved in others and just a touch bittersweet. There will always be a touch of bittersweet to their lives, having lost so much with Emma. 

“We will really need that house now.” he says after a moment, and she lets out a breath. Right. The house they were planning on buying before Neverland, the house Henry even made drawings for. It feels like a lifetime ago with how much has happened since, but perhaps now they have a chance to get back to normal.

“We should let Emma look at it too,” she says. “See if she likes it.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“What are we doing today?” she asks softly, and he kisses her very softly.

“Letting Regina and Graham make us breakfast, stay a whole day on the couch as a family, while doing nothing but relaxing and being together. We'll order lunch and dinner in and have ice cream too. Regina will work on her protection spell and I suppose Graham can stay too if he behaves himself. That's what we're doing today. Nothing of importance.”

Snow feels tears again, this time being shed, and his thumb brushes them away gently. “That sounds wonderful.”

II

Neal wakes to a massive, massive headache, and finding himself sprawled across an unfamiliar couch. 

“Oh, good morning!” a bright voice says, and he glances up to see the redhead from last night smiling down at him. “Don't worry, you were a perfect gentlemen all evening.”

He can't even remember much of last night, he has to admit to himself, so he just sighs. Did he really get that drunk with... Zelena? The name drags itself to the surface of his mind from somewhere.

“Zelena,” he tries, and the way she smiles confirms he must remember correctly. “Sorry if I...”

“Oh, you spent the night talking heartbreakingly about your Emma and everything you wished could have been different,” she says pleasantly. 

“She's not my Emma,” he mutters.

“No, indeed,” she agrees. “That is the problem, isn't it? You wish she were. You let her go. You want nothing more than to change the past.”

His head really, really hurts. “Can't change the past.”

“Oh, but you can,” she says, smiling in a way that is overly friendly and somehow, not friendly at all. “There is a spell.”

He stares at her. “What?”

“A symbol of courage, a symbol of innocence, a symbol of love and a symbol of wisdom,” she recites, as if learned by heart. “You see, I've thought a lot about what I like to change about the past too. Like my sister getting everything that should have been mine.”

He can't move, he realizes. He's frozen in place, as Zelena sits down on the couch next to him. She must have magic. He can't even speak. 

“I'm going to change that,” Zelena goes on merrily. “I'll make sure she's never even born. I won't be the daughter my mother left out in the woods. I won't be. And you're going to help me. Not right now, of course. You're looking at me as if you want nothing to do with me at all right now.”

She chuckles, and his skin crawls. 

“No, I'll make sure you don't even remember this conversation. I'll let you watch Emma with her family, her boyfriend, her son, and you'll feel that regret build and build... until it chokes you. Then you'll help me willingly in the end.”

He wants to shake his head, wants to deny it, but he can't move, can't speak, and she just laughs at him. 

“Don't believe it? You're just like your father. You'll be as selfish as he is,” she taunts, patting his cheek. “Now, don't worry, you can have Emma when I change the past. In fact, I insist on it. You'll stay with Emma, you'll have little Henry together, and she'll never come to Storybrooke to break the curse. You'll live happily ever after, I'll live happily ever after in a cursed Storybrooke just as I want it, and everyone else... Well, we don't really care about them, do we?”

Neal wants to shake her angrily, and yet, a part of him thinks longingly about what that might be like, a life with Emma and Henry. 

“I've already thought about my symbols,” she goes on, happily. “That adorable little baby the Charmings are expecting, that would make a fine symbol of innocence, don't you think? Don't worry, they won't have to grieve the loss for long before I change everything and they won't even remember that they've lost their son and their baby, and have lost their daughter yet again.”

Emma's parents, Neal thinks in mortification. No. He can't be a part of doing that to them. He can't. He will never willingly do that to them. They raised Henry lovingly as their own son – he is their son. He can't... _No_. 

Zelena just grins. “Now a symbol of wisdom, what would be better than your father's brain? Don't worry. His sacrifice will be rewarded with a lifetime with me. I'll make him love me. As for love, I have so many to choose between, so many loving hearts, but then I thought selflessly about what you might want. Your Emma, she is loved by her little boyfriend, isn't she? I think the Huntsman's heart will do well. Or maybe I'll even use my sister's, now that she loves her idiot Charming family so much.”

Regina, Neal thinks, piecing together enough to realize it has to be her. This woman is somehow Regina's sister. 

“And courage...” Zelena says dreamily. “That idiot Prince Charming does have it in bounds, but I thought it might be more poetic if I took a symbol of it from his daughter, showing her just how much she's like her parents before I take them away from her.”

Emma, Neal thinks painfully. Brave, brave Emma, not realizing herself how brave she is. 

“What do you think?” Zelena asks gleefully, grinning. “Oh, sorry, forgot. Can't talk. Well, doesn't really matter what you think, does it? You'll forget all about it. We have so many months ahead of us before that little precious Charming cupcake is born, so many months of you warming up to the idea, so many months of getting everything else we need. Now, tell me, who has the Dark One's dagger?”

Neal hears himself speak stiffly, unwillingly, as if compelled to do so. “Belle.”

Zelena tuts. “That one? No, that won't do. No, I think the dagger would be safer with you, don't you think? The son. The son whose daddy so desperately wants to reconcile with. The son... who will give it to me.”

No, he wants to tell her, and judging by how her eyes glint with amusement, she knows exactly that. She's enjoying this. 

“Now, let's forget all about this unpleasantness,” she says brightly. “You'll just remember waking up hung over on my couch, after having spent an evening drinking and sharing sad sob stories and I was just _so_ sympathetic to your plight. We'll become friends.”

“No,” Neal mutters, but his brain seems to be already be already rewriting itself, changing, forgetting. He... He's spent an evening drinking and sharing sob stories with Zelena, who was very sympathetic. “No, really, I am sorry I dumped all my regrets on you last night.”

“No at all,” Zelena says sympathetically, smiling at him softly. “As I told you, I completely understand having regrets. ”

“Right,” he says. Man, his head hurts. “Nice to meet someone who does.”

“It was so nice to meet you too, Neal Cassidy,” she says, smiling at him. She really has been so sympathetic to him, he thinks, and smiles back. Quite friendly. Who knows, maybe he'll have found himself a new friend in this town. 

II

This, as far as Charming is concerned, is the good life. 

He has his wife in his arms (a given), with her arms around his waist too as they stay curled up on the couch under a blanket. Emma and Henry have pulled out a mattress and have curled up there, and they are all watching some sort of cartoon that Henry suggested. It doesn't really matter what they are watching, as far as Charming is concerned. What matters is that they're all here, his whole family: his son (also grandson), his daughter and his wife, who is also carrying their next son or daughter. 

Regina left after breakfast, promising to return to cast a protection spell later and pretended to only begrudgingly accept coming to dinner when it was pretty clear how much Snow's insistence meant to her. Graham has left too, with similar promises to return later, and Charming did quite nobly pretend not to see his daughter kissing her boyfriend in the hallway and thus didn't have to punch anyone. 

Henry and Emma both seem quite happy with his suggestion just to stay in and do nothing, and so, here they are. 

“That's a silly superpower,” Emma mutters, getting an indignant look from Henry. “I'm just saying, even heroes can be silly.”

“Heroes are never silly,” Henry says with determination. “Heroes are always awesome people, like mom and dad...”

“Thanks, Henry,” Snow says softly without lifting her head from his chest, sounding touched.

“And you mom, Emma,” Henry finishes, and Charming can see a number of conflicting emotions on his daughter's face. She is touched, oh so touched, but he can also see reluctance to think of herself as a hero to her son, and maybe even afraid to.

“Thanks, kid,” she manages to say. 

He looks down at Snow, meeting her gaze and knowing she is thinking the same thing as him. Their daughter has come really far since they first met her, but she still has insecurities and fears. They won't go away overnight, but they can work on them.

“I agree with you both,” he says, and Emma and Henry both turn to look at him. “Emma Swan is an awesome hero, as is the formidable Snow White and the brave Henry, defeating the villain Peter Pan and returning victorious to watch cartoons all day and enjoying being extremely silly together. Heroes can be both awesome and silly.”

Even if he is deliberately exaggerating his praise to make it more easy to accept for Emma, he smiles at her proudly, so proudly she almost blushes at him.

“Don't forget Prince Charming the valiant,” Snow says, smiling at him brightly. “And all their friends, who were all heroes in their own way during the quest.”

“How silly of me to forget,” he jokes, and Emma rolls her eyes at him. 

“Dad jokes,” she groans.

“You can look forward to a lifetime of them,” he says, a joke and a promise both, and Emma looks at him before nodding softly. 

The door opens softly, revealing Graham. “It's just me. I come bearing gifts of ice cream and bear claws.”

“And now everyone can live happily ever after,” Charming jokes, seeing how Henry lights up at the sound of ice cream and how Emma lights up at the sound of bear claws. Emma makes another groan at that joke too, but a fond sort of groan. 

They change for another set of cartoons with less silly superpowers, while eating ice cream and bear claws. He spoon-feeds Snow vanilla ice cream, and steals a taste of it himself with a few stolen kisses while Henry and Graham debate what superpowers aren't silly. Emma seems content to just lean back against Graham, eating her bear claw so happily it's quite adorable. 

She must have missed them in Neverland, and he makes a note to get lots of them tomorrow, and begrudgingly awards Graham a point for getting them today.

“I'm happy,” Snow murmurs, and he glances down at her. 

“Me too,” he whispers. He is. Right in this moment, he is so happy he could burst with it. 

“I'm afraid something will happen to ruin it tomorrow,” she says in a low voice, and he thinks of everything that has happened lately, and how they've never seemed to catch a break for long. 

“I know,” he says softly, lifting his hand to her cheek. “Maybe we'll face another threat tomorrow, but right now, my darling... Let's be happy.”

She glances down at their daughter leaning into Graham's embrace with Henry by their side, all three now discussing what superpowers they would like to have. Emma apparently wants the ability to always summon coffee and bear claws, something Henry doesn't think is a super power at all. 

“Let's be happy,” Snow agrees, and he tilts his head down and kisses her as happily as he can. Who knows how long it will last this time, but for now... They're happy.


	111. Chapter One Hundred and Ten

II

**Chapter One Hundred and Ten**

II

Breakfast at Granny's is a rather public place for a date, but for Belle, Gold finds himself happy to do it. He ignores the occasional odd glance at the sight of the Dark One, Mr. Gold, out on a date. He's never cared much for the opinions of others – at least of most others. He does care a great deal about what Belle and his son thinks, and maybe just a little about what the Charmings and Regina, a Charming by implicit adoption now, think. 

“I like this,” Belle says happily, biting into a French fry. She's been all happiness since he returned, and has has to admit that their whole day together yesterday was like something out of a dream. He feels unworthy of it, of her, but he tries to ignore that persistent, nagging voice in his head that no, he does not deserve her and never will. 

“Fries for breakfast?” he jokes, and she smiles at him.

“This, Rumple. A date,” she says, and he softens.

“I like it too,” he says, feeling almost shy. 300 years, the Dark One and yet he feels shy on a date. But there is something about Belle that seems to put him almost off-balance.

“Neal!” Belle says happily, and he turns around to see Neal enter. His son. The son he thought was lost and now impossibly has back. He isn't sure exactly where they stand after everything that happened in Neverland, so many dark secrets shared, but at least Neal isn't looking at them with hostility.

“Hi Belle,” Neal says, and Gold watches as Belle gets up and hugs Neal with determination. “Good to see you. Hello, papa.”

“You too,” she says warmly. “Would you like to have breakfast with us?”

Neal clearly hesitates, and hesitates, every moment of it like heartbreak.

“Maybe another day,” Neal finally offers, glancing out throw the window. Outside, Snow, Emma and Henry are exiting a car. “Excuse me.” 

Gold closes his eyes, and feels Belle's hand lightly touch his. 

“It will take time,” she says softly. 

He opens his eyes and smiles at her. Ever optimistic Belle. 

“I chose power over him, Belle,” he says softly. “That isn't easily forgiven.”

“Maybe you can show him you'll make a different choice this time,” she offers. “You already went to Neverland to save his son, and you saved Neal instead of taking the deal Pan offered. You told me that. That's a start, Rumple.”

Yes, but what might the end be, Gold thinks and doesn't say, instead smiling at her, taking her hand in his and pressing a kiss to it. 

II

Henry is all excited chatter, but Mary Margaret is strangely nervous, Emma notices. Come to think of it, David was all odd this morning too, sneaking out early to prepare some sort of surprise they're going to meet up for after picking up coffee and refreshments to go from Granny's. 

Normally, she is not a great fan of surprises, having had too many of the not great kind in her life. But after a lazy, relaxing day of nothing but staying in, with a slight bout sneaking out to make out with Graham in his sheriff's car and arranging a lunch date later today, she feels... almost relaxed about it. Almost. 

The door to Granny's open and Neal comes out, and Emma feels... Not guilty, exactly, because what she said was all true and long overdue, but... Sorry, in a way. 

Mary Margaret shoots her look, and Emma tries for a reassuring smile.

“Hello Neal,” Mary Margaret says pleasantly, clearly deciding to take control of the conversation, and Emma finds herself grateful for that. “I didn't get the chance to thank you properly for all your help in Neverland.”

“No need to,” Neal says, glancing down at Henry. “Hello, Henry.”

Henry smiles. “Hi. I'm glad you're not dead.”

Neal chuckles. “Me too. I... I was wondering if perhaps you wanted to do something with me today, if your mom and dad were okay with it.”

“Oh,” Mary Margaret says, glancing at Emma again. 

“We're showing Emma a surprise today,” Henry says happily, smiling at Emma. 

“Yes, I am afraid we have plans today,” Mary Margaret says apologetically. “Maybe you could take Henry to the park tomorrow for an hour. Would you like that, Henry?”

“Sure,” Henry says, smiling, but Emma still notices a flash of disappointment across Neal's face. Then he composes himself. 

“I'll let you guys get on with your day. Good to see you, Henry. Mary Margaret. Emma,” he says, and Emma feels his gaze on her. 

“Have a good day, Neal,” Mary Margaret says pleasantly. As he walks away, she glances at Emma, taking her hand for a moment and squeezing reassuringly. Emma summons up the ghost of a smile, before they all step into Granny's. Belle and Gold are there, sharing breakfast, and Gold gives an almost friendly nod across the room while Belle smiles.

They pick up their coffees and a few pastries from Ruby, and head off again, Mary Margaret instructing her where to drive. They eventually pull up in front of a house, and Mary Margaret looks expectantly at her. 

Emma isn't sure exactly what she is looking at. It's a pleasant enough house, with a sort of rustic charming, reminding her of the sort of home she would dream of finding and being adopted into and never was.

“Come on!” Henry says excitedly, taking her hand before she can even ask what is going on. He pulls her out with him, while Mary Margaret smiles fondly at the both while following. 

The door is open, and David is waiting in the hallway. He is looking nervous too, she notices, and she swallows. Something is clearly going on. 

“What's going on?” she asks, and Henry beams up at her.

“Mom and dad are gonna buy it!” Henry exclaims, and Emma feels something in her stomach drop. Of course they are. Of course they will want a new house for their baby. Of course. 

“We could buy it,” David corrects. “Henry has already approved of it, but what do you think, Emma?”

“Sure,” Emma says automatically.

“Emma?” Mary Margaret says, sounding worried. Emma can't meet her gaze, can't look anywhere but the floor. 

“I mean, I'm sure it will be great,” she murmurs numbly. “Nice yard.”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret says again, cradling her head in her hands, looking at her with bright eyes. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” Emma mutters, but she knows it sounds utterly unconvincing. “I mean, I get it, new kid, new house...”

“We're not just getting it for the baby,” David says, walking closer. “For you too. We know living with us in a cramped apartment isn't exactly ideal, so we thought... This would give us more space.”

Slowly, Emma feels their words starting to sink in. They are talking about this as if they want her to live her too, as if that is a given. 

“Emma,” Mary Margaret says softly, her eyes teary. “Did you really think we wouldn't want you to live with us too?”

She swallows, and that seems to be answer enough, and a moment later Mary Margaret is embracing her, and then David too, while Henry holds her hand. 

“Sorry,” Emma mutters bashfully. “I didn't... Sorry.”

“It's okay,” David whispers, but she can hear it's not quite. Her parents are obviously a bit hurt she would think they were buying a house for themselves and Henry only, and thinking about it, she does realize her initial jump to conclusion isn't fair to them. 

“I'm just not used to... being a part of someone's plans for the future,” she says, hating how broken her own voice sounds. “I didn't think, I...”

“It's okay,” Mary Margaret says, pulling back to smile at Emma through tears. “We won't buy this house unless you like it too.”

“There are a few rooms downstairs we can adapt into more of an apartment just for you, if you want more privacy,” David offers. “That's why I was here earlier. Drove out here with Marco and Leroy, and we walked through it, talking about what we could get done. We could make you your own entrance too.”

“Or you could have an upstairs bedroom,” Mary Margaret says, looking at her intently. “Whatever you want, Emma. We want this to be your home too, for as long as you want to.”

“I've made drawings!” Henry interjects. “We could have an armory and a tree house.”

“Henry has made a lot of plans,” David agrees, looking down at Henry fondly. Then he holds out a wooden carved sign. “Marco made this for us too.”

Emma accepts it, staring down at a door sign. There are letters burned into it, elegantly. Names. Mary Margaret. David. Henry. Emma. And space below to add more. Her baby brother or sister, of course, but maybe other additions down the line too. 

She is visibly a part of a family, she thinks, and oh, her heart aches. 

“It doesn't have to be this house, if you don't like it,” Mary Margaret says, and David takes her hand. “If you don't like this one, we'll find one we all like. We'll..”

Emma holds up a hand, and her parents fall silent, waiting for her. It takes her a few moments to trust her voice. 

“Show me the house?” she asks, and Mary Margaret and David both nod furiously before hugging her again. 

II

Graham pulls up in front of the house Emma told him to pick up at, seeing Emma sitting on the steps waiting for him. She looks... pensive, and he turns off the engine before getting out.

“Ready for lunch?” he asks.

She nods, but makes no move to get up, so he sits down next to her. 

“They're going to buy this place,” she says, her voice almost emotionless. “I'm going to have a downstairs bedroom with my own bathroom and a small living room.”

He nods softly. “Okay.”

“They made plans for me,” she goes on, and this time, her voice isn't emotionless at all. 

“Of course they did,” he says softly. “Why wouldn't they?”

“Because I'm Emma Swan,” she says, closing her eyes. 

“You're Emma Swan,” he agrees, watching her face. “An Emma Swan a lot of people will be making plans for now. Snow and Charming will. Henry will. I will. I think you just have to get used to it.”

She opens her eyes. “You've made plans for us?”

“Yeah,” he says, watching her intently, trying to judge how far he can go, how much she is ready to hear. “I've got a lot of plans for dates, a few involving Henry too, if Snow and Charming are okay with it.”

She smiles faintly, distantly. “Knowing them, they will be. But I don't think dad will ever stop looking at you like he's sizing you up for a beheading.”

He chuckles. “I've known your father a long time, Emma. He's always going to be protective, but I don't mind. I fell in love with his, in her own way, equally protective daughter.”

She stiffens, but doesn't flee. He lets her process his words at her own speed, just sitting in silence next to her. He is pretty sure she knows how he feels about him, but getting Emma Swan to trust her own feelings, that's another matter.

“Okay,” she finally says, kissing him softly, and it feels like a sort of acceptance. “I'll... work on getting used to plans.”

II

There is a soft knock on the door, and Zelena opens to see Neal there. Inwardly, she smiles, but outwardly, she puts on a sympathetic look. 

“I got your message,” he says, without much of introductions. “You found something of mine?”

“Yes,” she says pleasantly. “It must have fallen out of your pocket when you stayed on my couch.”

Of course it actually didn't, and she pick-pocketed herself to have an excuse to call him over, but details smetails. 

“Right,” he says, following her inside as she walks over to the table, picking up the pennies, small key and collection of small photos she took from his pocket. 

“Here you are,” she says brightly. 

Neal nods, glancing down at the pictures. An odd expression flickers across his face. Of course she purposely put the one of Emma and himself on top, a quite old one from when they were much younger. 

“Something wrong?” she asks softly.

“No,” he says quietly, tucking the pictures away. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” she says, smiling. “I know how much holding on to... memories of what could have been matter.”

“Right,” he says again, non-committedly. “I better go.”

“You don't have to,” she says sweetly. “I was just about to have lunch. You could join me.”

For a moment, he looks like he might turn her down. Then he closes his eyes, and sighs. 

“Not like I have other plans,” he says bitterly, and she smiles. 

II

“Home,” Snow tries, tilting her head as she looks at the house, trying out the word. 

“Home,” Charming echoes, his hand warm in hers. 

This is their new home, their family home. They'll sell the apartment and move in here. This will be where Henry continues to grow up, where Emma becomes even a stronger part of their family, where their new son or daughter is born. This is going to be their new home. 

“I'm going to make a wall of family photos,” Charming says, his eyes bright with plans. 

She can just imagine him, putting up pictures of Emma, of Henry, of her, of the first sonogram of the baby, of them all together, devoting a wall to the family he loves so very much. 

She loves the image so much she tilts her head and kisses him softly, at least until they hear Henry groan from the car. 

“Mooom!”

She chuckles softly, and he draws his thumb across her cheek in a way that promises many more kisses later, when their son isn't impatient for lunch. 

“Let's get some lunch,” she says, and he nods. As they head towards the car, Snow throws one last look at the house. They seem to have so many plans in the last few hours, Emma even involving herself in them when she finally accepted that they truly wanted her to. 

But they have made plans before. They got married and planned to live happily every after as Snow and Charming of the Enchanted Forest. They got pregnant and made so many plans for their child, and filled a nursery with toys and hopes and dreams. 

None of those plans panned out. And now, carrying another child, having her son and daughter safely with them, Snow cannot help the moment of fear as she wonders if this time, their plans will suffer a similar fate.


	112. Chapter One Hundred and Eleven

II

**Chapter One Hundred and Eleven**

II

Author's Note: This chapter and some future chapters will be jumping ahead in time, bit by bit. This is set about a week and a half after the previous chapter. Also, for those who asked about the names on the door sign – yes, the choice of David and Mary Margaret is mostly for Emma's sake. 

II

“And if you look now,” Doctor Whales says softly, “we should be able to see your baby.” 

Charming can only stare at the screen and marvel. Oh, he has been through a pregnancy before, but that was in the Enchanted Forest, where they didn't have this kind of technology. And Henry, while he is their son in all the ways that, Snow was never pregnant with him. They've never had an ultrasound before.

“Oh,” Snow says breathlessly, staring at the image on screen where Whale is pointing. Her hand grips Charming's tighter, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head. They are looking at their son or daughter, their third child. 

“Hmm,” Whale says after a moment, and Charming feels his heart drop. Something can't be wrong, surely? No. No, he refuses to even think that. Nothing can be wrong. “I was wrong. We are looking at your babies.”

The plural takes a moment to register. “Twins?” 

“Twins,” Whale confirms softly, and Charming feels the room spin for a moment. He can feel Snow look up at him with wonder, her lips parted. 

“Do you want a picture?” Whale asks, and Snow nods wordlessly. “I'll be able to tell the gender or genders with more certainty later, but looks like you might be carrying a boy and a girl. They both have strong heartbeats.”

The sound of two rapid heartbeats fill the room, and Charming swallows, and swallows again. Two. Two new lives, two new children. They're having _twins_. 

“Charming,” Snow says, her voice filled with wonder, anxiety and love, all at once. He bends his head and kisses her softly, feeling her lips slowly curve into a smile against his. 

“I love you,” he murmurs, pulling back to look at her smiling up at him with teary eyes. “Snow, we're.... We're having _twins_.”

“We are,” she agrees, biting her lip. “Twins. I... One baby, and Emma and Henry, and never-ending crises to resolve is one thing, but... Two? How are we going to do this?”

“Like we do everything else,” he says, kissing her again for emphasis. “Together.”

“Now how did I forget that,” she says softly, lifting their entwined hands to press a kiss against his. “Love you.”

II

“I've been thinking about babies,” Henry says thoughtfully, and Emma nearly chokes on her coffee. For a moment, she has a horrible image of having to explain to her son – and also kind of her kid brother – just where babies come from.

“You have?” she says, buying herself time, glancing around Granny's to see if there are any distractions she might use to escape. 

Henry nods thoughtfully. “Belle helped me find a book about what babies are like. I'm going to be a big brother to one. I have to do it right.”

Emma finds herself smiling at the serious look on Henry's face. He means it, she knows, and yet knowing this determined, brave young boy is actually her son... It takes her breath away sometimes.

“You're going to be a great big brother, kid,” she says with certainty. How she'll do as a big sister, she isn't so sure about. She's still getting used to being a daughter, a mother and a... girlfriend, all at once. 

Henry considers that. “What was I like as a baby, mom?”

Emma swallows, trying to keep her face even. “You better ask your other mom that, Henry. I...”

He looks at her, his expression hurt. “You didn't even see me as a baby?”

“No, I...” She exhales, wishing he would have asked about where babies had come from instead. It would be an easier conversation that this. “I was in jail. I knew I had to give you up to give you your best chance. I... If I had looked at you even for a moment, I don't... I don't think I could have done it.”

He seems to evaluate that. “Mom? Why were you in jail and why didn't Neal know about me?”

Oh, hell, she thinks. She knew this question would come sooner or later, but she still isn't prepared for it. She doesn't think she ever will be. 

“Have you asked him?” she says instead of answering.

“Yeah,” Henry says quietly. He's spent a few hours in the park with Neal a couple of day last week, she knows, and a dinner with Belle, Neal and Gold a few days ago. “He said he didn't know about me, but that it was his own fault. He said he was really sorry and that it was the worst decision of his life.”

She closes her eyes. Hearing it said through her son doesn't exactly make it easier. She knows Neal regrets his choice, but he did make it. He left her.

“Mom?” Henry asks softly. “He was the reason you were in jail, wasn't he?”

A part of her considers lying, but as she opens her eyes and sees her son regard her seriously, she decides not to. “Yes, Henry. Partly. It wasn't entirely his fault. I made a mistake too, and August... made a mistake as well.”

Henry seems to consider all this. “Is Neal a bad guy, mom?”

“It's... not always that simple, Henry,” she says softly. “Not everyone is a hero or a villain.”

“Regina was a villain and isn't anymore,” Henry says slowly. He looks thoughtful, but slightly troubled. 

“Do you like spending time with Neal, Henry?” she asks after a moment of silence.

“It's okay,” Henry says. “He makes me laugh sometimes and he brought me a comic he thought I'd like. But he's not dad, and I think he's sad about that.”

She nods automatically, without even thinking. Henry looks at her curiously.

“Are you sad you're not mom? I mean, other mom?” he asks, and Emma imagines keeping her baby boy, raising him, being a mother through his whole childhood. It is an enticing image, far too enticing. 

“Sometimes,” she admits. “Henry... Mary Margaret and David have been great parents to you. They're everything I hoped you would get when I gave you up. But sometimes, I wish... That things could have been different.”

“I understand,” he says solemnly, and she wonders if he truly does. 

“I wish a lot of things could have been different,” she says, thinking about her life, all the choices others have made that shaped her life.

“You also wish that mom and dad could have raised you too,” Henry says, looking at her. “That's why you turned into a child in Neverland.”

“Sometimes,” she admits, but Henry smiles at her.

“It's okay, mom. They wish that too sometimes,” he says, and he sounds much older for a moment. “It's okay to be sad about what you didn't have. You're not a villain unless you make everyone else suffer because of what you didn't have.”

She looks at her son, who somehow manages to be naive and wise beyond his years at the same time.

“You may have a point, kid,” she says quietly. 

“We should get mom and dad a gift for the baby,” Henry says after a moment, taking a sip of his soda. “I read in the book that it's common to give gifts to the parents for the baby.”

She blinks at the sudden change of topic, though in a way, her parents having another child is a reminder of what she didn't have. They've made it very clear she and Henry will still be as loved as ever, but the thought of seeing them actually raising a baby, seeing just what she didn't have and not just getting the hints of it through Henry... It does feel bittersweet. 

But Henry did have a point earlier. 

“We should,” she agrees softly, imagining how happy that would make David and Mary Margaret. “You got any ideas about what?”

Of course he does, as somehow, she knew he would. 

II

Belle is smiling as she opens the door, giving Neal a hug the moment he is inside. He returns it happily enough. He has to admit that seeing her so quietly determined to bring him and his father together as much as possible lately has been oddly touching. She really does love his father, he knows, and while he is slightly jealous (not of his father having Belle specifically, just having someone who loves him), he is also quite happy for them both.

“Thanks for coming,” Belle says sweetly. 

“Thanks for inviting me,” he replies, glancing over her shoulder. “Hi, papa.”

“Hello, son,” his father says, and he looks genuinely happy. “Come in.”

It's not a lunch ordered from Granny's, impressively, and the table is set as if for a formal occasion. Neal finds himself oddly touched by the effort. His father is trying and Belle is trying, as if they want to make a sort of family with him. 

“Rumple and I have been talking,” Belle says after a while, and his father grabs her hand. “I've been... holding on to the Dark One's dagger since Greg and Tamara, but I don't feel right having it.”

“Why are you telling me?” Neal asks, noticing the looks the two are exchanging.

“I want you to have it, son,” his father says after a moment, and Belle leans down, the puts the dagger on the table between them. 

“Me?” Neal says, and Belle smiles in encouragement.

“I trust you to keep it safe,” his father has with determination. “And most importantly, I trust you to stop me if you need to.”

Neal feels tears in his eyes, trying to blink them away. His father let him go once, choosing power, and now... Could it truly be different this time?

Clumsily, he gets up and hugs his father. “Papa.”

“Son,” his father whispers brokenly, and Neal can feel Belle watch them both with shining, teary eyes. 

II

The loft is quiet when Snow returns with Charming in hand, meaning Emma and Henry aren't home yet. Snow feels a small twinge of worry at that, but tries to remind herself that they've had a week and a half of utter calm (and paperwork, arranging their sale of the apartment and purchase of their new house, and the upcoming move) and that everything is probably fine.

Charming doesn't seem worried, or if he is, he hides it far better, sitting down on a kitchen chair and pulling her onto his lap. 

“Love you,” he murmurs, kissing her neck slipping a hand inside her sweater to rest against her stomach. “Love you too, twins.”

She chuckles softly. Charming did this when she was carrying Emma too, caressing her stomach and talking as if the baby, or in this case babies, could hear it. It is strangely endearing. 

“We'll have to get two of everything for the nursery,” she says, closing her eyes as he kisses her neck again. “Mmm.”

The door opens, Emma and Henry entering, and both make identical faces on noticing what Charming is doing. It makes Snow bite her lip to keep from smiling. Sometimes, her two children are very much her children. 

Charming lifts his head and smiles at them both, and does get return smiles, but there is something about their expressions that make Snow wonder. Emma is carrying a plastic bag behind her, she notices as she looks closer, and Henry is looking secretive. Hmm.

“How was lunch?” she asks.

“Good,” Henry says, exchanging a look with Emma. 

“Good,” Snow echoes. “So what's the surprise?”

“How do you know there's a surprise?” Henry asks, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Mom's intuition,” she replies seriously, and Charming nods while giving Emma a wink. 

“Can't fool a mom,” Emma agrees, smiling faintly. She pulls the plastic bag from behind her back. “Henry and I... We got you something. Well, actually we got the baby something. We want you to know... We really are happy for you.”

Snow swallows a lump in her throat. Her daughter does sound sincere, but she also knows this isn't easy for her. That makes her appreciate the gesture all the more. Quickly, she gets out of Charming's lap and pulls Emma into a hug.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“It was Henry's idea,” Emma says quietly. “But it is from us both.”

Snow smiles, letting her daughter go and leaning down slightly to hug her son too. “Thank you, Henry.”

Henry beams, looking quite pleased with himself. “We got one from me and one from Emma, cos we couldn't agree on which one was best, even though it clearly was mine.”

“One what, exactly?” Charming asks, having given Emma a quick hug as well, Snow notices.

“Children's mobile,” Emma says quietly. “Henry told me he had a mobile with rockets and planets when he was a kid, and that he really loved it.”

Snow exchanges a quick look with Charming. “Yeah, we... We had one in your nursery too, Emma.”

Emma looks surprised for a moment, then sad, then seems to compose herself. “I didn't know that.”

“Unicorns,” Henry says, and they all look at him. “There's a picture of it in the book.”

“Oh,” Emma says, and for a moment, the silence seems filled with loss and what-ifs. “Right. We... We didn't go for unicorns.”

“I got dinosaurs!” Henry says, sounding excited. He reaches into the bag and pulls out a mobile of various felted unicorns in a variety of colors. “Dinosaurs are awesome.”

“I got birds,” Emma says, pulling out a mobile of felted birds, also in a variety of colors. “I thought... Snow White, birds...”

“Oh, Emma,” Snow says softly, hugging her daughter again, while Charming gives Henry a sideways hug. “I love them both.” 

“We'll use them both,” Charming says, smiling down at Henry. “You see, we have a surprise too.”

“What surprise?” Henry asks, looking up at his father. 

“You're going to be twice the big brother,” Charming says, but it's Emma who puts it together first, her eyes widening.

“Twins?” Emma asks, and Snow can only nod nervously, watching Emma intently and waiting for her reaction. After a moment, Emma good-naturedly rolls her eyes. “ You two never do anything by half, do you? I guess it's a good thing we're getting a house.”

We, Snow thinks, the sound of it so wonderful coming from her daughter. 

“Twins,” Henry repeats. He looks at Snow's stomach quizzically. “Will there be room enough for two in there?”

“They're really tiny right now, Henry,” Snow explains softly. “We brought a picture so you can see. But yes, there will be enough room for them both until they're ready to be born.”

“I've been reading about babies,” Henry says, and Snow has to smile at that. Of course he would. “But I don't understand everything in the book and I don't remember being a baby. Mom, could you tell me what I was like as a baby? Emma couldn't tell me.”

Snow looks at her daughter, who looks so much like Charming when he's being brave, and that's how Snow knows that right now, her daughter is feeling a great deal of pain. Gently, she takes her hand, and Emma looks up in surprise, then leans softly against her. 

Charming is watching them both, Emma's reaction clearly not lost on him either. “Maybe later, Henry, after...”

“No,” Emma says softly, swallowing. “I... I want to hear it too.”

“Okay,” Snow says softly, her heart aching for Emma, for herself, for everything that led to losing a childhood with their daughter, their daughter losing a childhood with her son and Henry getting parents in his grandparents. “If you're sure.”

They end up on the couch, Henry tucked into Snow's side, Emma on the other, and Charming on the other side of her again, while Snow – and occasionally Charming – tells of the many adventures of baby Henry and Emma listens intently, not missing a word.


	113. Chapter One Hundred and Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another minor time jump in this chapter.

II

**Chapter One Hundred and Twelve**

II

Without any furniture or any of their stuff in it, Mary Margaret's apartment somehow seems even smaller, Emma finds. It was cramped, living there with her parents and her son-slash-adopted-brother, but somehow, living there with them made it feel like a castle. This was her first true home in so many ways, and Emma's heart aches a little at the sight of it so empty.

This is moving day. All the dwarfs have all shown up to help along with Ruby and Granny, and all boxes and furniture have been removed and are on their way to their new house. This is moving day, and in some ways, it feels like the end of something and the beginning of something else. 

Henry, who has lived her longer than her, seems just excited about the move, and has shown her so many drawings of his plans for the house it has been hard not to feel excited for him. Henry, once he gets on board with something, almost seems to go overboard in so ways, she's learned, pouring all his energy into it. She is happy for him, she is, but at the same time...

She swallows, feeling her heart ache a little again. She is losing something today, just as she is getting something new. Loss and gain at the same time. 

“Emma?” her mother asks softly, and she turns to see her parents in the doorway, hands linked, watching her.

She tries to summon a smile for them, but it falters, and moments later she feels herself being embraced by both her parents. David puts a hand at the back of her head, cradling her softly, while she buries her head against her mother's shoulder.

Neither of them say anything for a while, but their presence is still oddly comforting. They're here for her. Her parents, holding her as she imagines they would have done thousands of times if they had been able to raise her. This is what she should always have had. 

“Sorry,” she murmurs after a while, pulling away, but Mary Margaret shakes her head.

“Don't be. You never have to be sorry for how you feel,” Mary Margaret says emphatically. David nods, leaning forward to kiss Emma's forehead very softly. It makes her swallow.

“I do like the new house,” she says. She does. She likes how they've fixed up a downstairs apartment for her, yet made plenty of space for her in the rest of the house, allowing her privacy but also making it clear how welcome she is. She likes the colors they've painted it, the ones she chose and Henry approved of, the furniture they've found together for it, the framed pictures they've given her of Henry and themselves to put where she wants. She likes all those things. She just... 

“Emma,” David says, so very softly. “We're making a home here in Storybrooke and we're very happy here, but there will always be a part of us that miss the Enchanted Forest. It was our first home. There is nothing wrong with... missing something that was special to you.”

She can only nod, feeling Mary Margaret take her hand and squeeze it reassuringly. 

“This was... special,” she manages to say after a moment, and her parents nod. “I... It was... home. I mean, I've lived a lot of places, but this was... Home.”

Mary Margaret nods, glancing at David for a moment. “When I was a bandit, I... lived a lot of places too, but I didn't find home until I found Charming.”

The love in her mother's eyes makes Emma swallow, and then again when both of them smile at each other, and then yet again when both of them look just as lovingly at her. 

“This was where I found you two and Henry,” she says softly, and her parents smile at her so happily it makes her heart ache too. “You're...”

She can't quite get the words out, but it doesn't seem to matter, because David and Mary Margaret seem to get it anyway, pulling her into another hug. 

“We'll always be here, Emma,” Mary Margaret murmurs. “No matter where we live, you'll have a home with us and Henry. And the twins, when they grace us with their presence.” 

Emma just nods softly. She knows that now. 

“I'll give you guys a moment,” she says, as she steps out of their embrace. They smile at her, and the last thing she sees as she heads out is her mother leaning against her father, both looking sad for a moment, and she knows they are saying goodbye to something too. 

It makes her feel better in a way, that this is a loss to them too, that it isn't just her. 

Henry has driven ahead with the dwarfs and the truck, having a plan to apparently see to, but Graham is waiting downstairs, holding a box, and she raises an eyebrow at that. 

“Are you moving too?” she asks, and the thought of living with Graham makes her feel a bit hot and cold at the same time. 

“Not yet,” he says softly, his gaze warm. “But I have a few moving-in presents for you. I believe it's traditional.”

“You're a traditional kind of guy?” she asks, stepping closer, and he flashes her a smile.

“More of a fairy tale kind of guy,” he replies, and she smiles at that. 

“Should I expect fairy tale presents?” she jokes back, taking another step closer and peeking down into his box. 

“Of sorts,” he replies seriously. “A new coffee machine to live happily ever after with for starters.”

She can see the coffee machine gleaming up at her, right next to several coffee mugs and boxes of cereals. And on top of those, a framed picture of herself, Henry, David and Mary Margaret eating lunch at Granny's.

“I took it a few weeks ago,” Graham says softly as she reaches out to touch the frame. “I thought you might like one of your whole family.”

She nods, speechlessly, and thinks of framing a picture of herself and Graham one day too, right next to her family. She has... She has her son in her life, and her parents, and two more siblings on the way, and a boyfriend. She actually has a life worth framing now. Emma Swan, with a life that now involves framed pictures. 

“I like it,” she tells Graham softly, and kisses him with the box between them. 

II

Snow is crying a little, Charming can tell, even if her face is buried against his chest. Gently, he strokes her back and kisses her hair, feeling a bit sad himself. Oh, they all know the move is necessary and the new house will be a good home, but they're still giving up the place they raised Henry, the place Emma found a home, a place with so many memories and a lot of happiness for Mary Margaret and David Nolan even while cursed. 

“I'm going to miss this place,” Snow whispers lifting her head from his chest, and he cradles her head in his hands and gazes down at her. 

“Me too,” he says, drawing his thumb across her cheek. “But we'll make a new home, and we'll be happy there too. All of us. We haven't had any trouble or a crisis to deal with for weeks. Maybe we're finally getting our happy ending.”

“Do you believe that?” she asks, and he smiles down at her.

“I have faith,” he tells her sincerely. Gently, he leans down to kiss the tears clinging to her lashes. She sighs softly, then again as his lips find hers. She tip-toes into it, putting her arms around his neck, kissing him back just as softly. It's a tender kiss, a caress of lips more than anything. 

“Love you,” he murmurs, his fingers moving to stroke her ears. She moans softly, a sound that always manages to do things to him, and he suspects she knows. “Mmm. Snow.”

“Emma is waiting,” she reminds him, and he groans slightly. Right. Daughter. Moving. Things to do that doesn't involve ravishing his wife. He'll have to wait until evening for that.

Reluctantly, he gives her lips one last peck, then pulls away and gives the empty apartment one last look. It has been there home for a long time, and he will miss it, but he is taking everything that made it a home with him. His wife. His son. And his daughter too, once she found them. 

Snow takes a similar look around the place, he notices, before linking her hand in his and together, they walk outside – to find their daughter kissing the sheriff a touch too enthusiastically for Charming's taste. (Then again, any kissing of his daughter will always be too enthusiastic for his taste. He is a father, after all.) 

He clears his throat pointedly, hearing Snow chuckle at that. Emma looks less amused, giving him a pointed look as if to tell him she's a grown woman. Which fair enough, she is. But she will also always be his little girl. 

“I better get going. I'll see you later, Emma,” Graham says softly, pushing a box into her hands. “David. Mary Margaret. Good luck with the move.”

“Thank you, Graham,” Snow says sweetly. They all watch as Graham crosses the street and drives off in the sheriff's car, and Emma looks... happy, David notices, and his heart aches a little. His daughter, in love. Oh. 

“What's in the box, Emma?” Snow asks, and their daughter looks almost self-conscious for a moment.

“Oh, just... moving in gifts,” Emma replies after a moment. “He got me a coffee machine.”

“That's very sweet of him,” Snow says, and David has to admit that she is right. Dammit. 

“Yeah, well,” Emma murmurs, shifting slightly on her feet, her cheeks slightly pink. “Are you guys ready to go?”

“Yeah,” he replies, as Snow nods. “Let's move.”

II

“Good morning,” a voice says, and Belle opens her eyes to see Rumple smile down at her. He's sitting on the edge of the bed, and there is something almost tender in his expression.

“Good morning,” she agrees, sitting up. Her body still feels wonderfully flush and warm. “Thanks for... last night.”

“Belle,” he says affectionately. “You never have to thank me for anything. I should be thanking you.”

“I don't want your thanks,” she says sincerely, and he looks confused for a moment. “I just want you.”

“You have me,” he promises after a moment, taking her hand and pressing a kiss against it. “I promise Belle, I am yours.”

She pushes away the nagging, persistent fear that a part of him, that part of him that once chose to keep his power instead of loving her, will never quite be hers, and instead leans up to kiss him. He meets her kiss softly, his hands cupping her cheek. 

“Neal will be here in half an hour,” he says after a few moments, pulling back to smile at her. 

She nods softly. It's taken a few weeks to think it over, but Neal has finally agreed to be the one to keep the dagger safe. Today, she'll hand it over to him, as agreed. 

“I think this will be good for you both,” she says brightly. “Having the dagger will let Neal feel just how much you trust him and that this time, you're choosing him.”

She can see the hope in Rumple's eyes, bright and strong, but she can see the fear too, like a shadow on his face. He wants to believe her, but he is also afraid to.

“I hope so,” he simply says, and she hopes with him.

II

There is almost a crowd by their new house, Charming notices as they pull over. The dwarfs are there, moving stuff into the house while Grumpy directs their efforts. He and Snow had originally planned to hire people to help with the move, but the dwarfs had been quite insulted when they heard about those plans and insisted on being the ones to do it. 

Henry is there too, beaming as they pull over, and Regina, with her arms crossed and an attempt at looking bored that fails a bit. 

“It's done!” Henry declares the moment they exit the truck. 

“What's done?” Charming asks good-naturedly, winking at Snow. They both know just what Henry has been plotting these last few weeks since they did overhear a whispered conversation with Marco, but they're not letting Henry know that.

“The tree-castle!” Henry exclaims happily. “I drew it and Marco and Grumpy helped me build it. It has the Charmings' signal on the side, and it's way cooler than a treehouse.”

“Of course,” Charming says seriously, and Snow hides a smile. “Castles are always cooler, and it's only fitting with a tree castle for Henry Nolan, the son of Snow White and Prince Charming, and princess Emma Swan.”

Henry beams, then turns to Emma. “Wanna see? Regina wants to talk to mom and dad so we'll have to show them later.”

“Sure, kid,” Emma says after a moment, handing her box over to Charming. “Could you put this in my room?”

“Of course,” he says, and watches Henry grab Emma's hand, pulling her along while chatting excitedly. His children. (Even if Henry is his grandchild also.) His beloved children.

“Something wrong, Regina?” Snow asks, sounding worried. He knows his wife has been waiting for a crisis or some sort of trouble ever since they got back to Neverland, not trusting the peace and quiet. It's hard for him too, to believe that they might finally get something like normal, but he really, really wants to believe it. 

“No,” Regina replies. “Just wanted to... I put up a protection spell here last night. Took me a few weeks and a lot of potent magic ingredients to make, but it will keep anyone with ill will towards you or your family from entering. Might mean no door to door salesmen will be able to enter either, but I'm sure you'll cope with that loss.”

“Regina,” Snow says, her voice soft. “You did that for us?”

Regina looks slightly uncomfortable, he notices, trying to sound curt and not managing. “Your whole family has a knack for getting into trouble, so you should all be walking around with permanent protection spells, but this was the best I could do.”

“Regina,” Snow says again, stepping forward and embracing her. He can see Regina's expression soften, and become almost loving. “Thank you.”

“I... Consider it a moving in present,” Regina manages to say, as she steps out of Snow's hug after a few moments.

“Thank you,” Charming echoes, and means it. Regina looks at him, her expression still soft, and nods. “Snow and I, we were wondering if you wanted to join us for a... extended family dinner tomorrow. At six.”

“I'd love to,” Regina says after a moment. “I'll bring... pear cider.”

Snow smiles softly at that. “We were... thinking maybe we could make it a weekly thing. Dinner with us, and Henry and Emma, once a week. If you want. We can come to your home for dinner too, if you'd prefer that.”

Regina closes her eyes for a moment, the nods, accepting it. Without another word, she turns around and leaves, and Snow watches her go with bright eyes. Gently, he pulls her into a hug, feeling her rest her head against his chest. He knows how much this means to her, that Regina has become a part of the family and has stopped being the Evil Queen. All the things Regina did to Snow before, those will always bother him, but he can be happy for Snow nevertheless and accept who Regina is now. 

“I love you,” Snow murmurs, as if she can tell what he is thinking. 

“I love you too,” he says, and Snow gives him a quick kiss that makes him smile. “Now, my darling wife, shall we find our equally darling children and see this grand tree castle?”

II

Graham knocks, glancing around the place while he waits for the door to be answered. This is a rather normal-looking farm, but there is still something about it that makes him feel uneasy. He can't quite put his finger on it, but it's there.

Distantly, a wolf howls.

The door opens. A smiling, red-haired woman is looking at him expectantly. “Ah, sheriff.”

“You called about an intruder?” he asks.

“I did,” she says brightly. “Without your deputy today, sheriff?”

“Yes,” he says, and the feeling of uneasiness grows. 

“Oh, that's right, she's moving house with her adorable parents and son,” the woman goes on, and he wants to reach for his gun, but finds himself unable to move. “I knew that. In fact, that's why I called you here today, sheriff. No pesky little deputy to interrupt us. I'm Zelena, by the way. But you can just call me... the Wicked Witch.”

He doesn't even have time to process that before her hand plunges into his chest, and he feels the familiar pain of having his heart ripped out of his chest. 

“I believe my sister did this to you once,” Zelena says happily, pulling her hand out. In her fist, his heart thumps painfully. “But I am going to do it _better_.”

Sister, he thinks dimly. Regina did this to him once. Regina has a sister? What?

“The Evil Queen's little Huntsman,” Zelena goes on, squeezing his heart lightly and making him fall to his knees from the pain. “Now the Wicked Witch's. We're going to have so much _fun_ together. I wasn't going to take your heart yet, but my idiot sister was out last night, putting up a protection spell around the Charmings' new home. I could break her little spell, but it would take time and then she would get suspicious and start looking around. It's better this way. You'll be my access to their home, and my little spy while at it.”

No, Graham thinks, but Zelena just smiles at down at him, lifting his heart to her lips.

“Say 'yes, Zelena',” she orders merrily.

“Yes, Zelena,” Graham says, and wants to howl.


	114. Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen

II

**Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen**

II

It's late evening by the time all their helpers leave, and it's just Emma, her parents and Henry, a little family unit in their new home. 

It is a lovely house, Emma has to admit. With all their stuff more or less in its new place, though with a few unpacked boxes here and there to go, it feels cozy, warm, friendly – everything her family has become to her. There are even pictures up already, of her, of Henry, of her parents, proudly displayed on a wall where Mary Margaret has assured her there will be room for lots more. 

Her own family pictures she hasn't quite decided where to put in her bedroom, but she has time to figure it out. In a way, she is almost looking forward to doing so now, to figure out life with a new house, with parents, with a son, with two siblings on the way, with a boyfriend. 

(She is also almost afraid to, a part of her still not sure she can trust this new version of her life, with so many people loving her and being in her life. Every time she started to trust something before Storybrooke – with the Swans, with Neal – it didn't last. She's afraid this won't last too. She isn't sure if she'll ever quite let go of that fear, but she tries her best to suppress it and not let it rule her.)

In the kitchen, Henry is helping Mary Margaret set the plates for a dinner, courtesy of Granny's this time, but Emma can already imagine hundreds of homemade dinners there. Maybe even more. Maybe a lifetime of them.

“What do you think? Has our new home become charming enough for the Charmings?” her father asks, appearing next to her, and Emma groans at the oh so very dad joke, even though a part of her rather enjoys it too. He is her father, after all, and she imagines that if she had been raised by her parents, she would have grown up with a barrage of them. 

“It's okay,” she replies after a moment, and he tilts his head at her, making her amend her statement slightly. “I mean, it's nice.”

“I'm glad,” he says softly, sincerely. “I want you to be happy here, Emma. We all do.”

“I know,” she says, nodding slightly. He seems to accept that, smiling at her before squeezing her shoulder lightly. 

“Emma? David?” Mary Margaret calls, and they both turn their attention back to the kitchen, where the table is now completely set. Beside her, Henry makes an exaggerated bow that makes Emma smile. Her very gallant son, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out who he is taking after. 

“I think we're being called to dinner,” her father says, and offers her his arm as if to prove the assertion she was just making to herself. “Shall we dine, princess?”

“Isn't mom the princess if you're Prince Charming?” Emma replies, but does accept his arm as he leads her to the table. 

“You're both my princesses,” he says gallantly, and Mary Margaret smiles at him in that loving way she does, which always manages to make Emma feel touched and awkward at the same time. 

“And you're both my mom,” Henry adds, which makes Emma glance over at Mary Margaret. Having her own bother also be the mother of the son she gave up for adoption is rather... odd, but then again, so is having Snow White and Prince Charming for parents. 

“Let's eat,” Mary Margaret says softly, saving Emma from responding. Emma gives her a small, grateful smile as they all sit down.

It is a pleasant meal, conversation flowing easily, and Emma finds herself smiling more times than she can count. Towards the end, the door bell rings, and she excuses herself to answer, feeling the knowing glances of her family at her back. 

Not unexpectedly, it's Graham. He gives her a welcoming smile before kissing her softly, and she finds herself leaning into it.

“Hey,” she says, as she pulls back. He looks at her oddly for a moment, before touching her cheek.

“I was going to stop by earlier,” he replies. “I got caught up at work. Sorry I'm so late. I must be interrupting your family dinner.”

“It's fine,” she tells him, scrutinizing his face. Something isn't quite fine, but she can't put her finger on it. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” he says, voice even. Yet there seems to be something like a shadow in his eyes, and she wonders. “Just missed you.”

She finds herself oddly touched at that. “You saw me this morning.”

“I like seeing you,” he says simply. “If that's a crime, you could try complaining to the sheriff, but I think he would see it my way.”

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly at his joke. “How long have you been saving that joke for the right moment?”

“A while,” he says, then leans forward and kisses her softly. “I'll let you get back to your family dinner. I'll see you tomorrow, Emma Swan.”

“You could join us,” she offers, and he looks touched.

“Another time,” he replies after a moment. “This is your new family home. Tonight should be you and your family.”

'You're becoming a part of that family,' she thinks, but doesn't say. Not yet. She knows Graham isn't Neal, and the circumstances that lead to Neal leaving her don't apply to Graham, but still... She can't quite brave that leap yet. 

“Goodnight, Graham,” she says instead, watching him leave, the slight sense of uneasiness still prickling at the back of her neck.

II

She slinks out of the shadows as Graham approaches the car, out of sight of the house. Zelena. 

“Good,” Zelena purrs at him, and Graham wishes he could claw at her, do anything that isn't obeying her every command. “The spell isn't keeping you out, just as I expected. You don't hold any ill will towards that charming little family at all, unlike me. You'll be able to enter their home and do exactly what I tell you to.”

“Yes, Zelena,” he says tonelessly. Her commands feel like they are burning in his throat, but he can no more resist them than he can keep his heart from beating. 

“You hate me for this, don't you?” she asks, leaning forward and catching his chin in her hand. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“Yes, Zelena,” he says, this time with a lot more emotion. 

She laughs in delight. “Good. You will hate me far more than you ever hated Regina by the end of this, I promise.”

He stares at her angrily, his mind howling on the inside. The thought of what she plans to have him do, to steal the baby from Snow and Charming, to force Emma's fears on her, to rile up Neal's jealousy to have him play his part, to change the past into some twisted fantasy of hers, is almost unbearable.

She smiles happily at his expression. “Now tell me, what is it Emma Swan fears most of all?”

He tells her, hating himself all the while, but her even more.

II

After dinner, Henry shows Emma a few computer games in the living room, while Charming does the dishes with Snow in the kitchen. She is practically glowing, Charming notices, watching her through lowered eyelids every chance he gets.

His wife is happy, and pregnant, and both become her so very much. So very much he has to press her up against the sink as soon as he finishes washing up the last plate.

“Charming,” she giggles, and he shushes her with a kiss before Emma and Henry can hear. It's as much a kiss as a promise of what's to come later, a declaration of intent to ravish her the moment they have the opportunity to.

She sighs happily into the kiss, brushing her tongue against his teasingly for a moment before pulling away and taking his hand. Obediently, he follows her into the living room where their children are defeating the forces of evil in Henry's computer game.

They end up playing monopoly as a family once Henry bores of the forces of evil, and Charming teams up with his wife to easily crush both Emma and Henry, making both his children complain about the unfairness of it all. After that, they watch a movie together, Snow resting on his shoulder, Henry tucked in between Emma and Snow. 

It's good. It's wonderful. It's a perfectly ordinary, uneventful family evening that would be normal to most, but feels so precious to him. 

Henry is the first to start yawning, but takes some convincing to agree to go to bed. Charming follows him upstairs, smiling at how Henry's room has turned out. They let him design it all himself, and his son is so proud of it all that it's impossible not to be touched. Their little prince is growing up, and growing more ambitious. 

“Dad?” Henry asks, as Charming sits down by his bed, as he's done so many, many times when Henry was younger. 

“Yeah, Henry?”

“Is it okay I call both of my moms 'mom'?”

Charming exhales, realizing his son picked up on that moment before dinner. “Yes, Henry. Both your moms are okay with whatever you want to call them. Emma is your mom, and Snow is your mom. You can call them both that as much as you want.”

“They didn't seem happy about it tonight,” Henry says, and he sounds slightly sad.

“Oh, they are,” Charming says, ruffling his hair fondly. “They both love you so very much, Henry, and they love each other. But Snow is also Emma's mom, so sometimes, the fact that they're both your mom is a bit weird to think about. But that never means they love you any less, or that they could possibly be any happier to be your mom.”

Henry nods slowly. “Would you love me any less if I called Neal 'dad' too?”

Charming exhales, trying not to think about his daughter, heartbroken and left alone, to be as fair as he can, for his son's sake. “No. I would never love you any less for any reason, Henry. You'll always be my son. If you want to call Neal 'dad' too, that won't change that I'll always be your dad.”

“Neal wants me to call him dad,” Henry says thoughtfully. “He hasn't said it, but I know he wants to. Do you think he'll love me any less if I don't? He doesn't feel like my dad to me.”

“I don't know Neal very well,” Charming says slowly. “All I know is that you can't force how you feel, and you should never make yourself act on feelings that aren't there. If Neal ever feels like dad to you, that's when you should call him that. If you call him that without feeling like he is, then you'll just make him feel sadder in the end.”

Henry nods again. “I think I understand. I love you, dad.”

“I love you too,” Charming says softly, and smiles at his son. “Goodnight, Henry.”

He turns his light on as he leaves, finding his way back to the living room to see Emma having fallen asleep on Snow's shoulder, the movie still on but the sound turned way down. Snow's doing, no doubt. It's such a wonderful sight he just watches it for a few moments before carefully sitting down next to them. 

He puts his arm around Snow as much as he can without disturbing Emma, and they watch the soundless movie for quite a while until Emma suddenly stirs.

“Mom?” she murmurs sleepily. 

“Yes, Emma,” Snow says softly. “You dozed off for a few moments.”

“Oh,” Emma says, sitting upwards and blinking sleepily at them. “Sorry.”

“Don't be,” Snow says, and Charming can hear how much she means it. Something as simple as having their daughter fall asleep against her shoulder is precious to Snow, he knows, as it is to him too. 

“Right,” Emma says after a moment. “I better got to bed. Got sheriffing to do tomorrow, a town full of fairy tale creatures to keep safe and sound and all that.”

“Goodnight, Emma,” he says softly, and Snow echoes it, and they both watch their daughter walk away towards her own part of the house. 

“I think today went well,” Snow offers hopefully after Emma has left, sounding like she wants it to be true. “We got most of our stuff unpacked, Henry's settled right in and Emma seem to like it too.”

“I think so too,” he says, running his fingers up and down her arm. “I think today has been a very good day. Just one thing missing to make it excellent.”

“What's that?” she asks, but he can tell from her look she has a very good idea.

“Making love to my wife in our new bed, in our new house,” he says, and kisses her. She laughs into the kiss, then again as he actually lifts her into his arms. Kissing her and carrying her to their bedroom is quite the task, but luckily he has a lot of past experience. In fact, he's close to considering himself an expert in multitasking involving Snow. He can kiss her while carrying her, kiss her while undressing her, kiss her while dancing with her and several other multiple tasks that often involve kissing. 

Snow certainly seems to approve of his multitasking skills, meeting his kiss happily, brushing her fingers against the skin at the back of his neck in a way that makes him kiss her even more greedily. He wants her. He's wanted her all day, and has been very patient waiting for just this.

Their new bedroom is a lovely room, but it's hard to pay much attention to that with something far lovelier in his arms. Granted, he might be biased, but as far as he's concerned, nothing is lovelier than his wife. (And only a few things are as lovely as, those being his children.) 

Snow smiles at him as he carefully eases her down on her feet by the bed, pausing to kiss her a few times before managing to tear himself away long enough to close the door properly. She watches him as he does, biting her lip in that way she sometimes does when looking at him. 

“Undress, Charming,” she says, a hint of royal command in her voice, and oh yes, she clearly wants him as badly as he wants her. As always. She isn't just his equal in their marriage, but in their bed too. 

He strips efficiently, while she watches, sighing softly when he pulls his shirt off, and biting her lip again when he sheds his jeans. When his underwear follows, her gaze feels hot on his skin, almost burning. 

“Let me undress you,” he says huskily, and she just nods as he steps closer. He lowers his head to press a kiss against her neck first, while his hands slide down her sides to find the hem of her sweater. He pulls it off slowly, letting his fingers play against her skin as he does. She arches slightly into him, and more so when the sweater falls to the floor and his mouth finds the top of her breasts. Her can hear her breath quicken, catching a little every time he parts his lips a little. He loves making her breathless just as much as he loves the feel of her skin against his lips. 

His fingers find the clasp of her bra while he continues his trek of kisses, and when he unhooks it and pulls it off her shoulders and onto the floor, he brushes his tongue against her nipple and hears her moan his name. He definitely wants to hear that particular noise again tonight, he decides, feeling her cling to him as he continues his attention to her breasts. They feel wonderful against his lips and fingers, as he touches, caresses, kisses and sucks, her breathing now becoming pants.

“Charming,” she groans impatiently, and he lifts his head to smile at her, noticing the flush in her cheek and the desire in her eyes. Beautiful. So very beautiful, his Snow, and as always, not particularly patient. 

He kneels down, kissing her stomach as he works on unzipping her pants and pulling them down. The pregnancy is beginning to show slightly, as well as making her glow, and he loves that too. He loves her, loves her so very much it's become a part of him that feels as natural and essential as breathing. 

She sits down on the bed as he pulls her pants completely off, leaving her in only quite cute sheep-dotted underwear. He has a good idea who that is in honor of, since Snow still quite stubbornly insists that birds are better than sheep. 

She bites her lip as she notices his gaze, edging further onto the bed. He follows, grinning at her all the while until she's moved all the way up against the pillows and he's only a few inches away. 

“Sheep, Snow?” he asks softly, lowering his hand to brush against her underwear. Her lips part lightly at the touch, and he can feel her press against him.

“I thought you might like it,” she murmurs. 

“I do,” he says, giving her lips a firm peck. “I like sheep. But Snow....?”

“Mmm?” she asks, parting her lips and breathing across his lips. That's just mean teasing, as far as he's concerned. 

“I _love_ you,” he says firmly, and pulls her underwear off in one smooth motion. She barely has time to do more than smile triumphantly before he gives her a rather wicked grin in return, then lowers his head between her legs. 

The sound she makes is wonderful, a sort of startled gasp of pleasure at the touch of his mouth. It becomes a series of moans as he continues, using his mouth, his tongue, and his fingers to please her as well as he can. (Which is rather well, in his not so humble opinion, given how much time he's had to master the skill of pleasing her. Decades, in fact.) 

Soon, she is moving against him, and he puts his hands on her hips to steady her, listening to her noises and breathing while he uses everything he knows about just what she likes to add to her pleasure, add and add and bring her closer and closer. He can feel her body become flush with heat, feel her fingers dig into his hair and feel her hips jerk against his hands. 

He's done this to her before many times, but it's equally thrilling every time. He loves her, loves making her feel good, loves the intimate sensation of being her lover, her beloved, her Charming. 

He can feel her hips tense under his hands, and then shake as he presses his tongue against _just_ the right spot and both feels and hears her come, moaning his name. Quickly, he lifts himself up, feeling her breasts brush against him as her body still trembles from her orgasm – and pushes hard and deep into her while she's still coming.

“ _Charming_!” she gasps, and the sensation of it all – of her, of being buried in her, of her orgasm – almost makes him come then and there. He bites his own lip hard, fighting the urge. He wants this to last, to make her come again, wants her, her, _her_ , as long as he can have her. 

Her eyelids flutter as he steadies her against him, lifting one of her legs around his hips, and pushing one of his own legs higher, allowing him to thrust even deeper inside her. She is still shaking, still coming, and it feels so good he can barely think. 

“Snow,” he whispers, kissing her face. Her lips are parted as she half moans, half pants his name. “ _Snow_.”

She looks so beautiful like this, all pleasure, her face bright and flushed, and the possessive part of him loves the fact that it's all from him, his touches, his mouth, him thrusting slowly and deeply inside her, him, him, him. 

He can feel the last ebbs of her orgasm as she slowly steadies against him, her fingers scraping lightly against his back in sync with his slow strokes inside her. 

“Charming,” she says, her voice hoarse. “Charming.”

“Snow,” he says, brushing his nose against hers before kissing her lightly, against and again, teasing pecks and brushes of his lips against hers. “Love you.”

“Mmm,” she breathes, closing her eyes and exhaling deeply for a moment. He kisses her eyelids, strokes her sides and keep moving inside her, slow, slick strokes that seem to edge a little deeper every time. 

“Yes,” she breathes, pressing against him. Oh, he knows she likes this, loves the feeling of him deep and hard inside her, knows it from so many nights with her, night of David and Mary Margaret together, even if Mary Margaret was more shy about it. 

“Deeper,” she whimpers, and he almost growls, pushing into her again, slowly but insistently, inching deeper and deeper inside her until she whimpers again. “ _Yes_.”

“Snow,” he says breathlessly. “Look at me.”

She opens her eyes, and he can see the lust, the want, the pleasure in her gaze, and it's like a flash of heat through his body. He can't help but moan, and then again as she rolls her hips while he's deep inside her. 

His lips find hers and he kisses her deeply, hotly, swallowing all her moans and pants as he moves, burying himself inside her again and again, and again and again. He loses track of time inside her, everything becoming sensations of her, of pleasure so sharp it drowns out everything else. It's good. It's so good it's dizzying, and he feels something like drunk, just drunk on her.

As much as he wants it to last forever, it can't quite. It's been a wonderfully almost-forever of moving deep inside her, but increasingly, he can feel himself almost slipping over the edge. He's so hard, so ready to come it's almost painful, but he's even more determined to bring her along with him. She is getting close too, he can tell, from the noises she's making into his mouth, from the way her body is tensing and tensing, from the way her fingers are digging into his shoulder at every thrust. So, so very close. 

His head is spinning, but clumsily, he manages to move a hand to her lower back, holding her against him, and thrusting deeply into her again. It's enough, and he has time to register her coming for a few seconds before he can't hold on anymore himself, and lets go.

It's bliss. He really has no other word for it, everything pleasure, everything good, so very good there probably are no good words for it. He isn't sure quite long he's out of it, but slowly, he becomes aware of Snow's skin, warm and flush against his, and his own ragged breathing. He can hear Snow too, breathing heavily, and while he can't quite summon the strength to lift his head from her shoulder, he does manage to shift his head to look at her. 

Her eyes are closed, and her cheeks are so flushed he imagines they must be burning. She looks blissful, and so very beautiful. Gently, he kisses her neck, feeling her pulse against his lips.

“Mmm,” she hums more than says. “ _Mmm_.” 

“Mmm,” he agrees, and he can see her smile at that. They lie still for a few more moments, until he can feel his body starting to respond to his brain again. Gently, he rolls them both, leaving him underneath and her curled up on top of him. The blankets take a bit of fumbling to arrange, but he manages that too after a few moments, covering them both. 

“Love you,” Snow murmurs, her eyes still closed. She looks about ready to drift off, and he presses a soft, lingering kiss to her temple. He only pulls back when he can tell she is sleeping, her breath steady and even. 

He just watches her for a few moments, as always enjoying the sight of his beautiful, wonderful wife. His Snow. His wife of two realms, the mother of his children, and now carrying two more. This wasn't quite how they imagined their life together, but right now, he finds himself happy. 

Maybe they can even stay happy for a while this time.

II

In his room at Granny's, Neal wakes from another unsettling dream about Emma, about staying with her rather than agreeing with August to let her stay in jail, about raising Henry with her, about being a family together and living happily ever after. 

The fifth such dream in just a few weeks, and it almost feels like it's haunting him, taunting him with a happy ending he's forever denied now. 

The past can't be changed. It can't. 

But waking up like this, the dream still fresh in mind, oh how he wishes it could be.


	115. Chapter One Hundred and Fourteen

II

**Chapter One Hundred and Fourteen**

II

“You know what to do?” Zelena asks him, and Graham wants to howl at her, but oh yes, he does know. He knows all too well what he's about to do to Emma, what he already started doing last night. 

He knows, and he hates himself for it, and Zelena even more.

“Yes, Zelena,” he says, and she smiles at him.

“Here is the nightroot,” she tells him. “Now be a good little pet and dose your girlfriend again. A proper dose this time. Don't try to get clever with me again. I want her to face her fears, not just feel them.”

“Yes, Zelena,” he says and wonders if he's been dosed with it himself, because if nightroot is meant to make you face your fears, he can't think of anything more frightening than being forced to harm someone he loves.

'I'm sorry, Emma', he thinks painfully, and feels it.

II

_She can feel it before they even say it – their gaze never meeting hers, their feet shifting, their hands on her shoulder with no affection – oh, how she can feel the rejection._

_They're sending her back. They're having a baby, and Emma Swan is no longer good enough._

_She's never good enough. Never. It always ends like this, and always will._

_She closes her eyes, feeling the rejection setting into her very bones, becoming part of her, becoming her. She's Emma Swan, the one who is always let go. She's..._

_“Emma,” the woman she thought would be a mother says, and Emma feels the ax fall._

She awakes gasping, clutching her neck, and for a moment she feels completely lost, drowning in all the fears of her childhood. Not good enough. Never good enough. Always an orphan. Always Emma Swan, just Emma Swan.

The her vision focuses on the small ray of light climbing in through her window. It's Sunday morning, and she's in bed in the house she shares with her parents (and their and her son) after spending the night before out on a date with her boyfriend. 

A nightmare. A nightmarish version of childhood memories, that's all it was. She's not that Emma Swan anymore. She's not. She can't be. 

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Her heart is still pounding in her chest, and her whole body feels icy with fear. Strong, persistent fear, as if she's been induced with it.

With a shudder, she climbs out of bed, finds a robe and hastily throws it on. She isn't even sure where she is going, just away, but her feet seem to lead her towards the kitchen as if on instinct.

She hears Henry laugh before she sees him, a happy laugh soon joined by another deeper laugh that is just as happy. Her father's, she knows, and sure enough, as she turns the corner to the kitchen, she sees David and Henry laughing at something placed on the counter. Around them, she can see various food items, so they are clearly in the process of making breakfast. 

For a moment, she just watches them. They look so perfectly happy together, just the two of them, and she feels the chill of her fear making her shudder. A family without her. She's seen that before. 

Then they both look up at the same time, and their eyes light up at seeing her. 

“Emma!” her father says happily. “Good morning. I hope we didn't wake you.”

“No,” she manages to say, walking closer. “What's so funny?”

“Dad's trying to make an pancake shaped like a dragon for me, and one shamed like a bluebird for mom,” Henry says. “They're really funny!”

“Hey!” David says, voice filled with mock hurt. He gives her a quick wink as she walks over and glances down at the two plated pancakes. Oh. Oh dear. 

“I think I will have to agree with Henry,” she observes, as she regards the oddly shaped blobs of pancake that could look like any number of things. “They are really funny.”

David shakes his head, but she can see them amusement and affection in his eyes. “My children conspiring against me. What is a father to do?”

“Make better shaped pancakes?” she suggests, and Henry giggles. “Where's mom?”

“I let her sleep in,” he says softly, lovingly. “She needs the rest. I'll wake her once breakfast is done. She'll want to join us. You know how much she loves our family breakfast.”

Emma just nods, feeling a lump in her throat. She does know, and she has to admit she rather shares her mother's love for them. 

“What kind of pancake do you want?” Henry asks, and she ruffles his hair affectionately. “A sheriff badge?”

“Sure, kid,” she says, and David smiles at her. “Think you can manage that, dad?”

“For you, princess, I'll try,” he promises, and makes an exaggerated bow.

The pancake ends up looking more like a sheep than a badge, but it tastes wonderful nonetheless, and Emma eats it while surrounded by her family, trying to forget her fear.

II

Uneasy.

That's the only word Regina can think of as she walks into Granny's. She's been feeling it more and more often of late, and she's not even sure why. There should be nothing to feel uneasy about – Storybrooke is calmer than it's been since the curse, everyone seems to be settling down quite nicely and yet... 

Yet Regina still feels a prickle at the back of her neck. Maybe it's just a silly fear based on how peace and quiet never seems to last, but it's still putting her on edge. What's putting her even more on edge is that she has no idea what to do about it.

“Excuse me?”

Regina looks around to see a red-haired woman smiling at her with a wide, oh so sincere smile, that feels insincere for exactly that reason. It's trying too hard, much too hard. 

“Regina Mills, right?” the woman goes on. “I'm Zelena.”

“I am,” Regina says testily. “Have we met?”

“No,” Zelena says brightly, her smile not even flickering. “I know you by reputation alone.”

The Evil Queen, Regina thinks, and feels the ghost of the past. She knows to some degree it will always be with her, but she has no intention of being haunted by it. She was who she was, and now she is someone else.

“I'm sure,” she says, lifting her head slightly. 

“Fascinating, really,” Zelena almost purrs. “The Evil Queen I've heard so much about now seems almost... a good person.”

“What do you want?” Regina cuts in, finding herself increasing annoyed by this game, whatever it is getting at. “Did I do some unspeakable horror in your presence? Did I kill someone you cared about? Did I offend your sense of fashion? What? What have I done to you?”

“Nothing. Unless you count being born,” Zelena jokes, but her smile fades for just a moment, a moment enough to make Regina feel that slight prickle again. “I merely came to offer my congratulations at your almost complete rehabilitation. You're an inspiration to everyone.”

With that, she saunters off before Regina can formulate a reply, which is perhaps just as well, because Regina isn't quite sure what she wants to say. All she knows is that she is now twice as uneasy as she was before – but at least now she has something she can do.

She gives Granny a polite smile, picking up her offered coffee before heading outside and picking up her phone.

It answers on the third ring. 

“Emma,” Regina says, watching Zelena walk down main street with an air as if she owns the place. “What can you find out about a red-haired, insincere sugar-sweet woman called Zelena?”

II

“I could get used to a lifetime like this,” Snow murmurs to David as they move to the couch. Henry has gone outside to play in his tree-castle (that now has an armory too), while Emma is still answering a call in the kitchen.

“Mmm,” he agrees, shifting her to sit in his lap. “A lifetime of our children being happy and my wife in my arms? That must be what happily ever after feels like.”

“I'd like to find out,” she says, and he looks at her that way he always does when he's about half a second away from kissing her.

“I gotta go,” Emma says apologetically as she walks into room. “Regina wants me to look into something. I'll be back for dinner.”

“Oh,” Snow says, feeling a slight worry and hearing it edge its way into her voice. “Is something wrong?”

“I think Regina just wants to make sure nothing will go wrong,” Emma says, and Snow can't help but stand up and take Emma's hands in her own.

“You will be careful, won't you?” she asks.

“Mom,” Emma says softly. “Don't worry.” 

“Mother's prerogative to worry,” she counters, and Emma smiles, then impulsively gives her a quick hug. “I love you.”

“I know,” Emma says quietly, then slips out of the hug and gives Charming a quick smile. “Tell Henry I'll be home later to besiege his formidable tree-castle if he still wants to play.”

“Of course,” Charming agrees, and they both watch Emma walk off before settling down on the couch again. Even as Snow settles into his arms again, she can't help but feel a twinge of worry. There was something... odd about Emma this morning, and now Regina is worried about something...

“Snow,” Charming murmurs softly, pressing a kiss to her head. She lifts her head to look at him, and knows he's picked up on her fear and worry. Of course he has. He knows her, after all. 

“Are you still afraid something is going to happen to ruin all this happiness?” he asks gently. 

“Yes,” she admits, nestling closer to her husband, closing her eyes as he softly strokes the sides of her stomach, pressing a few light kisses to her neck. “I think I will always be a little bit afraid of that. But I won't let that stop me from enjoying the moments.”

She can feel him smile against her skin. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she says, opening her eyes and tilting her head towards him. He's looking at her with so much love she feels breathless, and wants to kiss him breathless too. 

So she does. 

II

“Emma!” Graham calls out as she exists the house. He's leaning against the car, holding two cups of coffee. 

“Hi,” she says, walking straight up to him and kissing him thoroughly. He sighs almost apologetically into the kiss, then presses his forehead against hers. “I can't stay.”

“Neither can I,” he says. “I just wanted to stop by with some coffee and wish my girlfriend a good day.”

“Consider me wished,” she jokes, accepting the cup he's offering her and taking a light sip. He looks almost defeated for a moment, and she wonders. “Hey, is something wrong?”

“Just wish I could be with you today,” he says softly, kissing her again. “I love you, Emma Swan.”

“I know,” she whispers, because she does. She knows she is loved now. She does. She's just... afraid sometimes. The Swans loved her, she believed. Neal loved her, she believed. 

They still let her go. 

“Good,” he says, kissing her again, then stepping away. “I'll see you later.”

“Yeah,” she says, watching him get into his car and driving off before taking a deep breath. Right. Down to business. Regina, and her concerns about a redhead. Right.

She takes another sip of the coffee as she heads towards her own yellow bug, not noticing the hooded figure watching her from down the road.


	116. Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen

II

**Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen**

II

“Emma is asking around about you,” Graham tells her, and he can see Zelena's eyes flash with anger just for a brief moment.

“Why?”

“I think Regina asked her,” he admits, and she grins at his obvious pain at having to tell her anything at all. “Because she asked me the same thing. Apparently she felt something was off about you when you talked to her at Granny's.” 

Zelena scowls, and he finds himself enjoying that. It also tells him that this woman has a weakness. For all her plans, she is terrible at waiting in the shadows. She needs to be noticed, to be seen. That's a weakness. Weaknesses can be exploited.

“That's unfortunate,” Zelena says after a moment, composing herself. “I suppose it's time we step up this little... game, then. I got a house visit to make, and you... You have a job to do.”

II

It takes a little asking around at Granny's to find out that Zelena apparently lives at a farmhouse by the edge of the forest, and so, Emma impulsive decides to head there. She isn't sure what to even do when she gets there, but she feels an increasing need to get out of the town.

She feels watched. She can't even figure out why, because the only thing she catches in the corner of her eye are shadows, who vanish the moment she looks properly. It's just there, the growing feeling of being observed, watched, even... hunted?

Perhaps it's just paranoia, but she's lived too long on gut feelings to shake it. 

So she leaves a brief message for Regina, just stating that she's heading to Zelena's farmhouse to check things out, and drives off.

It doesn't change the feeling of being watched. It intensifies it. It makes her skin itch and her fingers prickle, and a growing cold sense of fear settle in her bones. She's afraid, she realizes, and it makes her breath start to catch.

What is happening to her? She can't... She...

This is all wrong, she thinks dimly. All wrong. It feels like a nightmare, only she is awake... Isn't she?

She steps on the breaks hard, her car coming to an abrupt halt. Hands shaking, she reaches for her phone without thinking, dialing on instinct more than anything.

Her mother answers on the third ring. “Emma?”

“Mommy,” Emma gasps, her voice thin even to her, sounding like a child's. “Mom, there's someone here, they're following me, they're...”

“Where are you?” her mother asks, voice thick with worry, but Emma can barely breathe, fumbling out of the car, wanting to run, run, run... “Emma?”

“It's no good,” the voice says, and Emma spins around, finding herself almost face to face with a hood figure, leaning calming against a tree. “You know what always happens, Emma. They let you go. They always let you go.”

“Emma?!” her mother voice's frantically calls on the phone.

“Please find me,” Emma says quietly, and then the lines goes dead. It falls from her hand to the ground, as she looks up at the one thing she always learned to fear as she grew up. The apologetic face of her social worker, come to tell her that she won't be adopted this time either, or come to take her away the one time she thought she might get adopted – only for them to send her back after they got their own kid. 

“Hello Emma,” Miss Coller says pleasantly. 

“No,” Emma says desperately. “You're not real. This isn't real. I'm...”

“You're little Emma Swan,” Miss Coller says, and smiles sadly. “The orphan. Always the orphan.”

And despite herself, Emma finds herself nodding. Always the orphan. This isn't a nightmare, her mind tells her firmly, harshly. This is real after all, and everything here in Storybrooke has simply been a dream. 

The dream of a family. What she always wanted so desperately. What she never got. 

“Come on,” Ms Coller goes on, holding out her hand. “It's time to go back where you belong.”

Mutely, Emma takes the hand like she did so many times in the past, and lets herself be lead away. 

II

Neal answers the door groggily, finding Zelena smiling at him, holding two cups of coffee and a bag that smells of fresh pastries. 

“Breakfast?” she offers, and he opens the door enough to allow her inside. “I thought you might like some company.”

“Thank you,” he says, leading her into the kitchen. “I'm afraid I can't do lunch today, though. I'm meeting my father and Belle.”

“Sounds like you two have started to mend fences,” Zelena says pleasantly, and he finds himself nodding. 

“He's really making an effort this time,” he comments, taking a sip of the coffe she offers him, and Zelena's smile widens. “He's really trying to show me that I'm more important to him than anything else.”

“Even power?” Zelena says silkily, and he feels a moment of uneasiness wash over him. “I'm sorry, but everyone in this town knows how important power is to the Dark One. Some even say nothing matters more to him.”

“I do,” Neal says icily, and Zelena pats his arm softly.

“Sorry. I'm just looking out for you. I feel like we've become such close friends. I just want to make sure he doesn't hurt you again, that he's all... sweet words and no action.”

“He's not,” Neal says irritably. “He even...”

He stops at the expectant grin that Zelena gives him, feeling as if he just stepped into a trap. 

“He even gave you the dagger,” Zelena says pleasantly, and smiles widely. “Be a good little boy and get it for me, why don't you?”

“I can't,” Neal says, gritting his teeth, fighting an obviously magically need to obey her. Has she “I... He's my father. I can't... betray him, I can't...”

Zelena sighs, then reaches into his chest and yanks at his heart. He can feel the tug, hard and painful, and gasps sharply. Then she tugs again, and again, and...

“He's put a protection spell on your heart,” Zelena hisses, and Neal feels a moment of strange joy. His father protecting him. Of course he would. 

“He's not a fool,” Neal manages to say, and Zelena scowls at him. 

“He's not,” she admits, sounding frustrated. “I wanted you to do this willingly, but that idiot of my sister is suspicious of me already, and I won't risk her stumbling onto the truth when I'm this close. Give me the dagger. I know you want to.”

“No,” he repeats again, glaring at her, fighting against the urge to do as she says with every fiber of his being. “I won't. He's my father. I won't.”

Zelena sighs, letting go of her grip on his heart, and Neal slumps forward, gasping. “Then I guess we'll have to do this the hard way.”

He feels the force of her magic as she lifts him up, then smashes him downwards, and then the force of the floor hitting him makes everything blessedly, blessedly dark.

II

Emma isn't sure how long they've been walking. It feels like forever, Mr Coller's hand in hers, leading her away, every step like a painful stab to her heart.

She's done this so many times. 

“It's better like this, Emma,” Miss Coller says pleasantly. “When you don't have a family, you don't have to be afraid of them leaving you.”

She finds herself nodding. She's told herself that many times, after all. It became almost like a mantra after a while. She lived her life by that, until... 

Henry.

She shudders, and halts. Henry. This is... Henry. 

“Emma?” Miss Coller says. 

“Henry found me,” Emma says slowly, her voice thin and hesitant even to her. 

“Only to have you be the Savior,” Miss Coller says gently, her voice like a sword, cutting into her. “You know that. He just wanted you to save everyone, so he could have his real family, with his real parents. The parents that gave you up.”

“No,” Emma says, feeling hot tears on her cheeks. “That's not true.”

“You know it is,” she hears herself saying, but it's not coming from her lips. It's... Miss Coller, but not Miss Coller anymore. It's herself, or a shadow of herself, grinning darkly at her. 

“Who are you?” Emma finds herself asking, stumbling backwards. 

“I'm you, of course,” her shadow self taunts. “I'm every fear you have, Emma Swan, and you're full of them. You've lived your life by them. So afraid to be abandoned again that you stopped giving anyone a chance and just left them first.”

Emma swallows, and swallows again, but can't find it in herself to deny it. It is true, after all. After all those families, after all those crushed hopes, after Neal... She stopped trying.

Until...

“You were me,” she corrects, closing her eyes for a moment, then opening them again. “I'm not just the sum of my fears.”

“You're not?” her shadow self mocks her, tossing her backwards, and Emma finds herself stumbling onto her knees. “Look at you. You have everything right now. Parents, a son, a boyfriend... a family like you always wanted.. and you're still _scared_.” 

“Yes,” she whispers, feeling the truth of it. She is. Oh, she is... But...

“You'll always be afraid,” her shadow self goes on.

“Maybe I will be,” Emma admits, lifting her chin. “But I won't let that stop me. I'll brave it.”

“You'll brave it,” her other self says. “A lifetime of braving your fears of being abandoned, Emma Swan? You really think you can manage that?”

“Yes,” Emma hisses, raising to her feet. “Because they make me want to be brave. Henry. Mom. Dad. Graham. I love them. They love me.”

“Do they?” her shadow self asks, almost sweetly. 

“Yes,” Emma hisses, advancing, and this time, it's the other her that steps backwards. “Henry loves me, Graham loves me. Mom and dad love me. They loved me before I was born.”

“You don't know that,” her shadow self hisses, stumbling. 

“I do,” Emma says, thinking of her baby blanket. For the longest time, she used to hope that blanket meant someone actually had loved her, and now she knows that hope was true. She is loved. She was always, always loved. 

She looks down at her hands, and finds the blanket is actually there, glowing slightly. 

“No!” her shadow self hisses, lunging at her. Without thinking, Emma lifts her baby blanket, and everything goes bright just as she hears distant voices calling her name.

II

His head hurts, Neal registers, blinking as his vision begins to return to him. He's lying on the floor of his kitchen, he realizes, and...

Zelena, he thinks, and stumbles to his feet. She was here. She was demanding to be handed the dagger. He refused, but...

With a sinking feeling, he hurries into the living room. Everything around him is trashed, torn apart viciously, and for a moment she has hope that maybe, maybe all this destruction is proof that Zelena couldn't find what she was looking for and took out her frustration on his belongings.

Then he sees the the scarf on the floor. The scarf his father made him out of wool he's pun himself, the scarf he wore when he wen through the portal alone, the scarf he always wanted to burn in anger but never did. The scarf that proved his father had loved him, just not enough.

The scarf he told Zelena about over dinner, while she smiled sympathetically at him.

The scarf he wrapped the dagger in, for sentimental reasons.

The scarf that means his father will now be in the power of Zelena, he realizes with dawning horror. 

II

“We love you,” someone murmurs, and Emma blinks and then opens her eyes to feel her mother stroking her hair gently.

“Mom,” she murmurs weakly, and her mother smiles down at her through tears. They're in a hospital room, she realizes, hearing the steady sound of a heartbeat monitor somewhere close. 

“You scared us,” another voice says, and she tilts her head slightly to see her father on the other side, clutching her hand in his as if it's the most precious thing in the world. Henry is by him, looking distressed.

She swallows. Her mouth feels dry, and she can barely think. “I... What happened?”

“You called us,” her mother says softly. “Told us you were being followed. We found your car at the side of the road.”

“Your mother tracked you,” her father says, smiling at her mother affectionately. “She is the expert tracker in the family, after all. We found you out cold in the forest.”

“Oh,” she says, closing her eyes for a moment. They found her. Of course they did. Of course.

In a rush, it all comes back to her. The fear, the figure, the mocking words, the determination to fight her fears... 

“Emma?” her mother asks softly. “Who was following you?”

“My fears,” she mutters dizzily, and without opening her eyes, she can still tell her parents are exchanging worried and confused glances. She's not quite sure what is going on herself, but she's going to find out. She has to.

She can't lose her family – but she fears someone is determined to make sure she will.


End file.
